Good to You
by burnthiscityxx
Summary: She protects her heart and hides behind a cool exterior, but when Sam Evans comes to town and saves her in more ways than one, she finds herself believing in things like fate and destiny – and starts to learn what its like to finally let someone in.
1. Prologue

**Hey, everybody! Guess who's back, with a brand spankin' new Sam/Quinn story? I can't stay away from these two, they're so easy to write about, it's like they write themselves. Lol. **

**Anyway, this fic is a multi-chapter, I'm not entirely sure how long it'll be yet, because the idea is still floating around in my head, but I'm excited! It's not completely AU, but I guess the only thing they have in common for now is the Glee club and that Sam is new to McKinley.**

**So, I hope you guys enjoy it and the rest of the chapters to come! Be patient, I'm still working on the rest! :P And to everybody who's reviewed/read my other fics (and will read/review this one), thank you so much! Love y'all. :) Xoxo.**

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

The battered Ford pick up truck swung itself into an empty parking spot and spluttered to a stop, catching the attention of several students that occupied the school courtyard. They waited breathlessly, for someone to emerge from the vehicle but after several seconds, changed their focus back to their early morning conversations – except for one student. She was a petite blonde, leaning against the school building, her arms clutching her books to her chest. Shaking her long fringe out of her hazel eyes, the girl kept her gaze fixated on the truck and held her breath, waiting.

Lima was a small town and William McKinley High was an even smaller community of cliques – a place where people were only interested if you were on the fast track to a football scholarship or if you were blessed in the looks department. But as the door opened on the driver side, the blonde girl tapped her foot gracefully against the brick wall behind her in anticipation. It was as if it happened in slow motion and her eyes traveled along a tall, muscular, athletic figure that stumbled slightly as he hopped out of the truck. He ran his fingers through his short hair, exhaled nervously, and turned to face the school looming before him.

It takes one second to make eye contact with someone – just one second. Call it fate, destiny, or pure dumb luck, but when her eyes locked with his, the air shifted. Perhaps it was in the fact that the early morning conversations were drowned out by the quickening beat of her own heart, or maybe it was how the frightening prospect of being the new kid quickly deemed itself irrelevant when his green eyes met hers. Whatever the case was, it took one look – just one second – for their worlds to change.


	2. Chapter 1: The New Kid

**Hey everyone! Oh wow, first off, thanks so much for reading and reviewing the prologue - didn't expect to get a good enough response for this fic. Lol.**

**Anyway, here it is - the first chapter! I'm just sort of introducing everything and everyone at this point, so if some things don't make sense...well, just send a message my way or I'll try and reply to your review. :) **

**Regardless, please read and review! I'll be oh so grateful. Oh, and obviously, I don't own Glee. Duh.****  
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><p><strong>Chapter 1: The New Kid<strong>

Sam Evans was nervous. Not the kind of nervous that made your palms sweat in anticipation, this type of nervous was the kind that made your heart beat twice as fast in fear and anxiety. He tapped his fingers in a manic rhythm against his knee, fighting a raging battle inside his head – suck it up or sprint out the front door. Either way, he'd lose. Sucking it up would mean actually committing to being the new kid and heading back home would mean dealing with his parents who would eventually convince him that education was a necessity and he'd still end up sitting in an uncomfortable chair, waiting for the principal to formally introduce himself.

God, he hated being the new kid.

It was the same in any city, in any state. He'd be poked, prodded, talked about, and sometimes even bullied, for the first few weeks, until the gossip-hungry teenagers would find another scandal or breaking news to obsess over. Indulging himself in the thought that it would be _very_ 007 of him to make a mad dash for the front doors, Sam played with his car keys, flipping them over and over in his hands, his mind running a million miles a minute. Before he almost lost his keys to fumbling fingers, the principal's door opened and a tall boy with a Mohawk exited, clutching a pink slip with the words, 'DETENTION' clearly marked across it. His lips were turned up in a smirk, a cool and apathetic expression etched across his face, as he made eye contact with Sam. He cast a disapproving look over his shoulder at the blonde, before ripping up his detention slip and walking out.

'_Here it goes.'_

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><p>She strutted down the hallway, her wavy curls bouncing across her shoulders with each purposeful step, parting the crowds before her. Balancing her books in the crook of one arm, her hips swayed back and forth, causing the flimsy material of her mini skirt to swish from side to side. She tossed her hair over her shoulder for a final gesture of pure indulgence, before taking a sharp left and immediately starting to spin the dial to her locker, leaving behind a trail of panting teenage boys and jealous girls in absolute awe – a normal reaction after seeing Quinn Fabray grace the hallways of McKinley High.<p>

"You have got to teach me your walk!" Rachel Berry, a slightly obnoxious, yet annoyingly talented brunette, came bounding up to Quinn, her lips curled in a smile.

"It's just a walk, Rach. Won't make you popular," the blonde muttered, leaning back, letting the cool metal course through her body.

"How was your weekend?" Rachel asked, ignoring the snide comment that had come from her friend. If there was one thing she knew, it was that Quinn could be mean, cold-hearted, and ruthless on the outside, but deep down, there was a fragile soul just waiting to be awakened.

"It was fine,"

"I took Finn to see Casablanca down at the old movie theater. For some reason, he thought it was supposed to have subtitles," Rachel giggled and her friend offered her a soft smile, to show she was listening. If someone had told Quinn a year ago that she and Rachel Berry would be having a civil conversation in public, Quinn would've probably laughed in their face. But after everything that had happened in their junior year, the girls had put aside their differences – something that continued to confuse the McKinley High student body.

"Hey, who's the new kid?" a third voice interrupted them, as Santana Lopez, clad in her cheerleading uniform, sidled up next to Quinn.

"What new kid?" Rachel asked. There was a short pause between the girls before Quinn turned her head towards one end of the hallway and saw him – the same figure that had climbed out of the battered Ford pick up truck in the courtyard that morning. "Oh, _that_ new kid,"

"He's kind of cute, you know. Even with the big mouth. Then again…who knows what he could do with that big mouth," Santana chuckled at her own joke, before tossing her ponytail over her shoulder and strutting away. She walked towards him, dangerously close, and ran a hand across the back of his shoulders. From far away, Quinn and Rachel saw her whisper seductively in his ear, ruffle his short hair slightly, and then continue her walk down the hallway.

"She's ruthless," Rachel commented, shaking her head.

"She's Santana," the blonde scoffed, keeping her gaze fixated on the boy, who was now precariously balancing a stack of papers and folders on his propped up leg and trying to open his locker at the same time. He seemed to be completely unbothered by the stares of the other students and completely unfazed by Santana's previous little flirty comment – something that would've normally sent the other McKinley boys into frenzy.

"We should go talk to him," Rachel tugged on Quinn's arm.

"What? Why?"

"Because he doesn't seem to have any friends yet,"

"Since when did you turn into a welcoming committee?" Quinn snapped. "Say hi to him yourself, I'm late for homeroom," she shrugged, pushing herself off her locker and stalking away from Rachel. She headed across the hallway towards her assigned classroom, lingering outside the doorway; as her eyes followed the brunette girl make her way towards the new kid. She offered her help and held his books while he spun the dial and they talked for several seconds. Quinn couldn't help it, she found herself mesmerized by the way his big lips lifted into a sincere, lopsided smile, making the corners of his green eyes crinkle in an adorable, boyish manner. She saw Rachel turn and Quinn's eyebrows rose skeptically, as she watched the small girl gesture wildly in her direction.

Before she knew it, the new kid was walking towards her, the same, sincere smile plastered across his face and Rachel was nowhere to be found. Groaning inwardly, Quinn snapped her head up high, threw her shoulders back, and cocked her head to one side – a look of automatic disapproval in her eyes.

"Hey, I'm Sam. Sam Evans," to Quinn's surprise, his voice was deep and husky, causing her eyes to widen and her cool façade to break for a split second. Recovering quickly, she looked at him up and down, as if to assess him for the first time. Raising her eyebrows in disinterest, she made a bored, clicking sound with her tongue against the roof of her mouth, which caused him to chuckle softly. "You're…Quinn?" she nodded briefly, a look confusion flitting across her face. Had it been any other boy at McKinley, they would've either run away scared or tried to hit on her – Sam was doing neither.

"This is Mr. Schuester's homeroom. Unless you take Spanish or Glee club, you're probably not going to see him much," Quinn tossed her hair over her shoulder and strutted into the classroom, plopping down in the middle row. She saw him scan the room quickly, before occupying the desk behind hers.

"So, could you tell me where Mrs. Wilcox's Astronomy class is?" his voice tickled the back of her neck and without meaning to, Quinn felt a shiver run down her spine. She turned around in her seat, snatching the piece of paper out of his grasp.

In all fairness, Quinn didn't really understand why she wasn't being nice or welcoming to him. Maybe it was because there was something in his manner, in the way he acted, that made her interested – which in turn, made her scared. Or maybe it was because of the way their eyes locked in the courtyard earlier that day.

Maybe it was because he was just really, _really _attractive.

"We have English together," she said, her voice clipped. Handing the piece of paper back to him, she saw him lift his upper lip into a half-smile, before casting his eyes away from her. _'Alright, Quinn. Don't play the bitch card with the new kid – at least wait until you have a reason to,'_ she coached herself, before propping her elbow on his desk, resting her chin in her hand. "So, what brings you to Lima?" she asked.

"Uh…my dad. My dad's job. We move around a lot," Sam shrugged, surprised at the sudden change in Quinn's mood.

"Where were you before?"

"Nashville,"

"Lucky. I guess this seems like a pretty lame place to be after music city, huh?" she scoffed, twisting the ends of her blonde hair around her index finger.

"It's not so bad," Sam answered softly, their eyes meeting once again. They held each other's gazes like that for a while and Quinn felt the world fall away again, heard her heart beat twice as fast, felt the blood rush through her veins. But all it took was the sound of a bell and the rush of students to snap them back to reality and as Quinn turned back to face the front of the class, she felt that same shiver run down her spine – as if lightning had just been captured in a bottle.

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><p>"Grayson is tough, but you'll get used to him. There's always a format to his essays," she explained, as she fell into step next to Sam. Despite the rocky start to the day, Quinn found herself actually enjoying his company – at least, during the rest of her homeroom and most of their English class together. He was sweet, funny, charming, and had a dorky side to him. He wanted to try out for the football team, struggled with dyslexia, had two younger siblings, loved his beat up truck, and wanted to get an after school job. Quinn didn't really know how or why they had ended up on such friendly terms, but she decided it was nice to have someone who didn't try and hit on her constantly. In fact, Sam was just the opposite. He was polite and respectful – a refreshing change from the McKinley High boy population Quinn was accustomed to.<p>

"I'll figure it out," he shrugged, holding open the cafeteria door, as she slipped inside the noisy, chaotic room. "Whoa,"

"So…this is the McKinley High cafeteria. The food is horrible," she chuckled, making her way towards the long line.

"Well, the company can't suck, right?" Sam shrugged, grabbing two trays and handing one to her. She looked at it skeptically, her nose wrinkling in disgust.

"Did you not hear what I said? The food is horrible," Quinn repeated, a smile playing with her lips. "I'm sitting on that side, so why don't you come join us after you're done," she giggled, patting him on the shoulder and walking away, leaving behind a dumbstruck blonde boy clutching two empty trays. Quinn spotted Rachel, Santana, and several of their other friends sitting at a large table across the room and she scurried to meet them.

Taking her seat and greeting her friends quickly, she opened her container and started to eat her salad absentmindedly, taking in the conversations that floated around her. Rachel and Finn, her football player boyfriend and fellow Glee club member, were busy discussing their duet for that afternoon. Santana, Brittany, Kurt, and Blaine were chatting about a new movie and at the end of the table; Mike and Tina were engaged in mini food fight.

"Hey," a familiar figure slipped into the seat next to her and she happily turned to face him.

"Decided to skip lunch altogether?" Quinn asked, eyeing his nearly empty tray that sat in front of him.

"Do you really think this is my first time in a high school cafeteria? Please, I'm not a rookie," he joked, reaching into his backpack and pulling out a wrapped sandwich. "Fooled you," Sam chuckled and Quinn hit him playfully on the arm.

"Funny," she rolled her eyes, shoveling a bite of salad into her mouth. She took a quick glance around the lunch table and wasn't shocked to see that nobody was interested in Sam, at all. If there was one thing she knew about her friends, it was that they were all self-absorbed. Staying silent for a minute, she wondered how to break the news to Sam that they were an odd bunch. Despite the fact that Finn was a football player and that Brittany and Santana were both cheerleaders, her friends consisted of theatre geeks, Glee club members, and random misfits that didn't really belong anywhere in the social hierarchy of McKinley.

"So, who are your friends?" Sam interrupted her thoughts.

"Um…well, you know Rachel. And that's Finn, her boyfriend. He's on the football team," she explained, gesturing towards them. The brunette gave Sam a small wave and Quinn saw Finn raise his eyebrows in confusion, before acknowledging Sam's presence at their table. "That's Kurt and his boyfriend, Blaine, who used to go to Dalton Academy. Artie's in the wheelchair and that's Mercedes. Mike and Tina are the annoyingly adorable couple in the corner and…oh, Britt and Santana are Cheerios,"

"The cereal?"

"No, the cheerleading team!" Quinn laughed. "Although, I guess I never realized the connection until now. Anyway, there are a couple more people who hang out with us, but they're either busy or have different lunch periods. We're…we're all in Glee club," she added honestly. _'So what if he's new? He might as well get all the dirt so he can make an informed decision about whether or not he wants to hang out with us losers,'_ she thought.

"So, how come you're not in the cheerleading uniform?" he asked, his mouth full. She wrinkled her nose in disgust, tossing him a paper napkin and rested her chin in her hand thoughtfully.

"I used to be, last year. I quit, though. Things just weren't…working out," she shrugged, giving him a look that told him no more questions about her past were allowed. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, Quinn made the mistake of glancing into his eyes again and she stayed there, happily, for a while, as if looking into them made everything seem a little bit better.

"Uh…you said…Glee club?" Sam stuttered, mentally cursing himself for sounding like an idiot. It wasn't entirely his fault. Quinn's hazel eyes were mesmerizing and they kept having moments – seconds of heaven where he felt like he was literally melting into her. "I mean…what is that?"

"Glee club is a show choir. We sing and we dance and we perform. We're always looking for new members, if you'd like," Rachel's voice suddenly interrupted their conversation and Quinn rolled her eyes – leave it to Rachel Berry to advertise Glee club as if it were the coolest thing on the planet.

"Rach, it's his first day. At least let him breathe before you bribe him into being your duet partner," Quinn snapped.

"Glee club sounds cool. I'll think about it,"

"You don't have to, Sam. It's not like it's required, so don't feel like you're trapped or anything," she explained.

"No, I mean, I play the guitar in my free time, so it might be fun. We'll see," Sam shrugged his shoulders, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms out. Noticing a look of concern flit between Rachel and Quinn, he decided to ignore it.

'_Maybe being the new kid isn't so bad, after all,'_

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><p>Quinn carelessly tossed her books in her locker, before reaching back and shaking her hair out of its long braid. It had been a weird day, she noted. Trying to keep up her reputation and image was always tiring, but that day, the weight felt lighter, somehow. Around most people, Quinn was somewhat of the quintessential mean girl, a front and a façade she used to keep others at arm's length. But after spending time with Sam, she found herself laughing at stupid jokes – jokes she would've never deemed worthy of her time. Yet, there she was, leaning against her locker, watching Sam help out Rory, whose books had fallen out of his own locker, once again. Maybe it was because Sam was unashamed of who he was, that he was so genuine and sincere to everyone he met, regardless of what clique they ran in, what their sexuality was, and what they looked like. Quinn noticed that he treated everyone the same way – with respect, understanding, and awareness.<p>

"Are you into him?" a deep voice surprised Quinn, causing her to jump away from her locker and snap her head back to see who it was.

"Geez, Finn! Give me a heart attack, why don't you?" she panted, her hand over her heart to steady her breathing.

"Are you into him?" he repeated.

"Who?"

"The new kid. Sam…something," he shrugged dismissively.

"Sam Evans," Quinn rolled her eyes at his ignorance, her mind remembering that not once did Finn even try to make conversation with Sam at the lunch table, even when Sam asked him a question about football tryouts. Instead, Finn had muttered something about the roster being locked and then had proceeded to get up and walk away.

"Whatever. Are you into him?"

"No, Finn, I'm not," she sighed exasperatedly, crossing her arms. "But since when are you so interested in who I may or may not like?"

"Since you were flirting with him in front of everybody at lunch today,"

"I was being nice, Finn. You know, polite? Which is something you need to remember how to be, by the way," she rolled her eyes, picking up her messenger bag and making her way towards the doors.

"Yeah? Well, maybe you should remember that you've already got a boyfriend and his name is Puck," he shot back, causing Quinn to stop dead in her tracks.


	3. Chapter 2: Encounters

**Hey everyone! Ah, first off, thank you SO MUCH for all your wonderful feedback and reviews and putting me on your alerts. :) I appreciate each and every single one of you!**

**Just a few notes...yes, I did change the title of the fic, just because I love, love, love this song and it fits so perfectly with Sam/Quinn. If you guys haven't heard it, just YouTube Marianas Trench and Kate Voegele - the song and its lyrics are amazing. Secondly, I changed the rating to M, just in case. I wasn't sure about some of the content in this chapter, so it's just a caution. :)**

**Also, I know I said this fic was AU, but I didn't specify how AU it is. Basically, Beth never happened. Oh, and this chapter also takes place over several days...I hope that's clear. :S And Puck isn't really a complete a**hole, I promise. I mean, I don't have an entire evolution planned for his character, but I love Puck too much to turn him into a total jerk. Lol.**

**Anyway, here's the second chapter! I'm excited about this fic and I hope you guys are too, so please don't forget to read and review! Enjoy! :) Xoxo.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2: Encounters<strong>

She was frozen, her hands shaking from clutching her books tightly, mentally repeating to herself that in under no circumstances was it appropriate to slap Finn across the face. Turning slowly on her heel, she faced him, her eyebrows raised in defiance at the gigantic football player.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just saying, Puck's not exactly the forgiving kind,"

"And you're not the _smart_ kind," Quinn retorted, her eyes flashing with anger, taking a step closer, causing Finn to shrink back in fear. "Otherwise you would have realized that our relationship has nothing to do with you. In fact, how _dare_ you throw it in my face, when I did nothing wrong!" she cried.

"Okay, okay! Geez, forget I ever said anything," Finn relented.

"I wish I could," she said, through gritted teeth. Throwing one last, annoyed look his way, Quinn tossed her hair and strutted back out the school doors, suddenly desperate to get home as fast as possible.

As much as Quinn unconditionally loved her Glee club members, there would always be something about them that irked her beyond belief. It was inevitable, though. Glee club was like a dysfunctional family and every family had its weird quirks – it was learning to love everybody despite the quirks that was difficult. And despite the fact that she had practically chewed off Finn's head earlier, Quinn knew exactly what he was talking about – her reputation. In his twisted, not so obvious way, she realized he was actually trying to help her.

'_But I wasn't acting any differently with Sam than I do with Mike or Artie, was I?'_ she wondered, stepping into her large, empty house. Tossing her books onto the coffee table, she made her way into the kitchen and made a cup of tea for herself. These were the moments she treasured – alone time, on days when she didn't have Glee club and before her mother would reach home from her job. Sipping her tea cautiously, Quinn thought back to earlier that morning, when she watched Sam stride out of his truck and up the school steps. They had locked eyes for a split second and it had even happened again during their talk in homeroom. Even just thinking about it made a shiver run down her spine and in the quiet of her home, Quinn began to see what Finn was talking about. Had it been any other new kid at McKinley, she wouldn't have even batted an eyelid. She wouldn't have been so helpful, so welcoming, and so open with her world. Recalling the scene in the cafeteria, Quinn remembered how she had invited him to sit with her, without even thinking twice about it – no wonder Finn, Rachel, and the rest of the Glee club had been so surprised. The last time Quinn had been that nice to anybody was…

'_Never,' _she finished off her own thoughts, setting the cup of tea down on the marbled kitchen island. What was it that made her feel as if she had the potential to be a better person? What was it that made her feel as if it were okay to be nice and welcoming and polite?

What was it about Sam Evans that intrigued her?

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><p>He jogged towards his locker, running a hand through his short hair, his other arm cradling his textbooks. The curriculum wasn't difficult, he decided, and it was manageable with his dyslexia, but he couldn't be too sure. Spinning the dial, he concentrated on balancing his books on his right knee, until he heard someone say his name. Nearly dropping everything, Sam shoved the rest of his books into his locker and shielded his face from view, trying to drown out the sounds of other students. Taking a quick look around his locker door, he saw Finn and Quinn involved in some sort of confrontation and he strained to hear bits and pieces of their conversation.<p>

"…maybe you should remember that you've already got a boyfriend and his name is Puck…not exactly the forgiving kind…"

"…our relationship has nothing to do with you…nothing wrong!"

Wincing, he closed his locker door shut just in time to see Quinn toss her hair over her shoulder and stalk out of the school, leaving behind one confused football player. Sam crossed the hallway and headed straight for his beat up truck, jumping inside and taking several deep breaths before starting the car. It only took him several minutes to drive home, but the ride seemed longer that day, what with his mind running a million miles a minute. Of _course _Quinn had a boyfriend. What did he think? That it was pure coincidence and luck that the most beautiful girl at McKinley High would give him the time of day? She had been friendly and welcoming and he had misinterpreted her actions for something else. Feeling dumber by the minute, Sam swung the truck into the empty driveway and rested his head against the steering wheel, trying to get his breathing even. _'There's no way a girl that gorgeous would be single…let alone interested in me,'_ he thought to himself. Despite the obvious attraction – at least, it was obvious for him – Sam could never actually move in on someone else's girl. That wasn't him and it would never be. No, it was better that they remained friends and nothing more.

'_I'll just go my own way and she'll go back to being the queen of McKinley,'_

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><p>The sun shone brightly over the McKinley High football field, causing the boys who were clad in their padded uniforms to fidget uncomfortably, as they listened to their coach yell out instructions. After several minutes, they dispersed, half the team occupied with the outdoor gym equipment and the other half running drills. Across the grounds, girls in cheerleading outfits jumped and tossed one another in the air, their ponytails bouncing high. Led by Coach Sylvester, a no-holds-barred, relentless woman, the squad executed an intricate number of twists, tosses, and hip shakes – enough to catch some of the football players' wandering eyes.<p>

"See something you like?" Quinn's voice cut through the commotion, reaching Sam's ears in a melodic, demanding tone. He dropped his dumbbells to the ground in surprise and turned to face her, a goofy grin on his face.

"Now I do…?" his hesitant attempt to flirt with her caused a giggle to escape from her soft lips – a sound Sam could definitely get used to hearing. It was strange, how after only several weeks of being at McKinley, that he could feel so comfortable with not just the school, but also the people that occupied it.

Several days after discovering that Quinn had a boyfriend, Sam wasn't completely surprised that the famous 'Puck' was the same boy with the Mohawk he had encountered on his first day at the principal's office. Since then, he had been wary of hanging out with _the_ Quinn Fabray, but no matter how hard he tried, it was as if a force was pushing them together. They spent English classes seated next to each other and although he would spend most of his lunch periods with the rest of the football team (a team he had easily tried out for and made the cut), there were several occasions he would sit with Quinn and the rest of the Glee club. It felt comfortable there, as if they were a family and he was a welcome guest. He was also surprised to learn that a number of the football players were also in Glee club and despite Puck's obvious disapproval; Sam had struck a friendship with Mike Chang.

"Nice try, Evans," Quinn rolled her eyes. "So, how's practice with the McKinley Titans?"

"Tough, but I'll work my way up – football was never that hard for me," he shrugged, running a hand through his sweaty, damp locks.

"Modest, aren't you," she laughed.

"You know," Sam joked, crossing his arms and leaning back against the bench press machine coolly. "Anyway…"

"A little close, aren't you?" a voice interrupted Sam, as a familiar figure strode up and slung an arm over Quinn's shoulders casually.

"Puck," she warned.

"Just making an observation," he remarked snidely. Sam wasn't a hater – he knew guys like Noah Puckerman and how they operated. He knew it was a façade and he wasn't one to fight, after all, Quinn was Puck's girlfriend and the less tension there was between the two boys, the easier it would all be.

"She's all yours, dude," Sam shrugged. He noticed a look of surprise cross Puck's face, before it softened slightly and the girl standing next to him sighed in relief. As much as Sam's presence affected Quinn, she was determined to not let it get to her – yet her heart still ached when she saw him walk away.

"Hey, Evans!" Puck called out. The blonde boy slowly turned around and made his way back, his eyebrows raised questioningly. "Rutherford's parents are out of town this weekend, so the football team's having a party – a kick off to the season thing…you should come," he offered.

"Um. Sure, I mean, I'll see if I can make it," Sam said hesitantly.

"Nah, you've got to, man. Get to know the whole team and all that. I'll text you the details," Puck insisted. Glancing briefly at Quinn, who was grinning from ear to ear, Sam sighed and gave in.

"Yeah, okay. Sounds like fun,"

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><p>From several blocks away, where Sam had parked his truck, he could hear the music thumping away – a weirdly pleasing mix of hip-hop, R&amp;B, and techno beats. Matt Rutherford, a football player he had gotten to know over the last few days, lived in the more affluent area of Lima, a fact Sam saw for himself as he walked up the elaborate driveway. People spilled out of the front door, most of them clutching red paper cups and for a split second, he swore he had walked straight onto some cliché, high school rom-com movie set.<p>

"Sam!" a familiar voice caught his attention and he turned to see who it was.

"Hey, Mike,"

"You made it! Parking's crazy, isn't it?" the Asian, who was already red in the cheeks, slung an arm over Sam's shoulders and guided him into the house. "Drinks are in the kitchen, the dance floor's in the living room. There's a beer pong game going on in the basement and there's a pool in the backyard," he quickly explained. "What are you drinking tonight?"

"Uh, I'm not. I have to drive back and everything," Sam replied warily.

"Oh, you could just crash here, but whatever, that's up to you," Mike shrugged, leading the way into the kitchen. It was packed to the brim with people and as he introduced Sam briefly to everyone, the blonde noticed that most of the partygoers were already well on their way to wasted.

"So, where the rest of the team?" Sam asked, swishing his cup of water from side to side. It wasn't that he never drank alcohol before – in fact, he had attended some pretty wild keg parties back at his old school. It was that he didn't want to end up looking like an idiot around people he barely knew. If there was one thing being the new kid had taught him, it was that reputation and appearance were everything.

Realizing he wasn't going to get an answer from Mike any time soon, Sam left the kitchen and wandered out in the backyard. He chatted with Mercedes and Artie, exchanged several words with some of the guys from the soccer team, and even indulged himself in an awkward dance situation with a couple of cute cheerleaders. Fitting in had never been the issue for Sam – it was more of trying to get along with the people that he already knew.

"Hey!" Rachel Berry's voice, one he had become attuned to over the past few weeks, broke through his thoughts and he turned to face the brunette. She was dressed in an adorable red dress that tied around the neck and her cheeks were flushed from dancing.

"Hey, Rachel,"

"Having a good time?"

"Surprisingly, yeah. You? Where's Finn?"

"Oh, he's in the basement, playing beer pong," she replied, with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I was wondering if you knew where Quinn was. I have to ask her something about next week's Glee assignment and I tried finding Puck, but he's nowhere to be found, either," she bit her lower lip nervously, her eyes scanning the backyard. Sam had to stifle a chuckle – sometimes it was as if she was too innocent for high school, but he always found it entertaining.

"Maybe they don't want to be found, Rach," he suggested, although the image the words conjured caused his stomach to turn nauseously.

"What? Oh, _no._ Quinn isn't like that…I mean, she hasn't…" Rachel stammered, tucking her hair behind her ears and pressing her palms together in thought. "I just mean, she wouldn't do something like that, it isn't…it isn't _her_. Could you just help me look for her?" she pleaded, her big brown eyes staring up at him. Sighing in defeat, Sam relented and proceeded to search the house with the brunette at his side.

To his surprise, Rachel was right. Puck had been found in the basement, playing a fierce game of beer pong with against Finn and after stumbling into several already occupied bedrooms, they finally found Quinn sitting on the fountain ledge in the Rutherford's driveway.

"I've been looking everywhere for you!" Rachel cried, hurrying to the blonde's side. "Where've you been?"

Quinn's eyes were red and puffy, as she looked up at her friend. "Around," she shrugged dazedly.

"Oh no. Are you okay?" Rachel immediately wrapped a comforting arm around Quinn, as Sam rocked back and forth on his heels, unsure of whether he was supposed to be listening in or not.

"I'm…I'm fine," her voice cracked and she pulled her gray cardigan tighter across her shoulders. "What did you want to ask me?"

"It was about the Glee assignment. I had an idea,"

"Yeah? Tell me,"

"Quinn, it can wait,"

"Rachel Berry," her voice was stern and cold, as she looked into the brunette's eyes – even Sam felt her hostility from where he was standing.

"A mashup. Of TLC's _Unpretty _and West Side Story's _I Feel Pretty_," Rachel blurted out.

"Okay,"

"Okay. Do you want me to take you home?"

"No, don't be ridiculous. Go back inside, have fun with Finn. I'll be fine, really," Quinn insisted and after several moments of silence, Rachel gave her a hug and walked back inside the house – but not before she threw Sam a concerned look. Unaware of what he was supposed to do, he stood there with his hands shoved inside his pockets. It was silence all around, mixed with the distant sounds of a party that seemed long gone to both of them. They stayed like that for a while, until he noticed it was getting colder and that Quinn was starting to shiver.

"Here, take this," he offered, shrugging off his leather jacket and wrapping it around her shoulders. He sat down next to her and watched, as she pulled it closer to her body and shook her long bangs out of her eyes.

The moonlight framed her face perfectly, as if it had shone directly on her and Sam could see now that her eyes, though still the beautiful hazel ones he had grown accustomed to, were red and puffy and her cheeks were streaked with tear tracks long forgotten.

"I can't believe this," Quinn mumbled. Never in her wildest dreams did she ever think that on a Saturday night, at a supposedly raging party, would she be the girl crying outside of the house. It had all started so well, from Puck picking her up and even being civil to her parents, to conquering the dance floor with Brittany and Santana. She had even managed to sneak in a few kisses with her boyfriend and he didn't even complain or whine when she didn't want to go any further. It was all a seemingly perfect night.

"What happened in there?" Sam asked hesitantly. She turned to face him, her eyes squinted in the night, her mind battling between letting him into her world and shutting him out. Sighing to herself, she turned away from him once more.

"Like I said, it was nothing," she replied curtly. Silence followed and Quinn noticed Sam fidgeting uncomfortably next to her.

"Alright, well…if you're going to be okay…"

"I am," her answer was forced and too immediate, but she needed him to think that she didn't want his help.

"Then I'm going to take off. You can just give the jacket back next week," Sam stood up, stretching his arms above his head and for a split second, Quinn let her eyes travel down his torso and the way his white V-neck had risen up several inches, exposing his well-defined hips. She felt her body flush with embarrassment and she immediately ripped her gaze away. "I'll see you," he nodded, giving her a soft smile, and turned to walk away, when there it was – that same ache in her heart every time he left her sight. It was pathetic, but Quinn felt such an innate need to be around him and she could never explain why.

"Wait!" her voice was raspy from crying, but it rang out in the night air as clear as day to Sam. He stopped in his tracks and turned his head, only to see Quinn running to catch up with him.

"Yeah?"

"Could I get a ride home?"


	4. Chapter 3: Feeling Safe

**Here we are! The third chapter. :) I'm so glad to see you guys responding so well to this fic. A big, big shout-out to hrselovr101, who actually asked me when the next chapter was coming up...well, here it is! :P**

**I'm not the biggest fan of this one, but I kinda have an idea of where I want the story to go, so hopefully it stays on the right track. God knows I've been known to change the plot without even realizing it! Haha.**

**Obviously, I don't own Glee or any of its characters. If I did, I'd make Sam Evans do that little nose crinkle of his and make him sing Summer Nights to me 24/7. Yes. Anyway, please read, review, and enjoy it! :) Xoxo.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Feeling Safe<strong>

He was a cautious driver – steady and aware, but not painfully slow. His hands clenched the steering wheel tightly and every so often, he'd drive with one hand, letting his other elbow rest on the partition between them. She didn't know what to expect, let alone what she was thinking, when she asked him for a ride home. All Quinn knew was that if she had stayed a minute longer at the party, she would've done something she'd come to regret later. Instead, there she was, sitting comfortably in the passenger seat of Sam's beat up Ford truck, listening to soft, country music play in the background. Every so often, the song would change to an alternative rock melody and through the lyrics; she could gauge what type of person he was. Sam was sensitive and self-aware, caring and considerate – things she couldn't remember how to be.

"You could change to the radio, if you want," his deep voice cut through the silence and Quinn nearly jumped out of her skin. Shaking her head, she looked down at her lap, fiddling with the charm bracelet that sat on her wrist. "I never listen to the radio. I hate hearing the people talk, so I've always got CDs. There's a bunch in the glove compartment, if you want to check it out," he offered, slowing the vehicle to a stop as they reached a traffic light.

Quinn shifted in her seat slightly, her gaze finding his. After a beat, curiosity got the best of her and leaning forward, popped open the glove compartment. Loose CDs, CD jackets, USB drives, and concert flyers spilled out onto her feet and a giggle escaped her lips. _'Boys are so messy,'_ she thought.

"Wow, Dolly Parton? I know you're from Nashville, but I didn't think you'd be straight-up…_Dolly_," Quinn observed, a smile playing at her lips.

"Oh, damn. Um. That's my mom's. She uses the truck sometimes," Sam explained, blushing furiously.

"Of course it is,"

"I've never listened to Dolly Parton in this car, I swear. But, she is a great country artist,"

Hearing the obvious fondness in his voice, Quinn grinned mischievously and reached over, ejecting the current CD from the radio, and shoving the Dolly Parton record in, waiting for the first few notes to come through the speakers. When she heard the singer's distinct accent and saw the look of horror and amusement cross Sam's face, Quinn couldn't hold it in any longer and burst out laughing. For the next few minutes, they listened to Dolly Parton, making up the lyrics and trying to imitate her accent, in which Sam's impression was scarily accurate. After the third song ended, she reached over and turned the volume down, leaning her head back into the worn leather, panting. She couldn't remember the last time she had laughed so hard, so freely. Casting her glance to the boy sitting in the driver's seat, she saw that Sam's face was also tinged pink from laughing and he was smiling, the corners of his eyes crinkled happily. He ran a hand through his short, blonde hair, causing several wisps to fall into his eyes. Fighting the urge to brush them away, she kept her hands folded on her lap, until he shook his hair out of his eyes.

Sometimes, when her mother had gone to sleep and she had finished all her homework, Quinn would sneak out and drive around Lima by herself, taking in the sights around her and thinking about the future. She reflected on her world and how it was so small and sheltered. Most of the time, she drove around alone because she liked the feeling. It made her feel free and rebellious, safe and close – as if she had the potential to become someone amazing and special. And as Quinn stole a glance at the night air that had settled around them, she realized she felt that same way now. Safe, serene, free – as if there were a million opportunities at the tips of her fingers, just ready for her to take the leap. The only difference was that this time, she wasn't alone. She was with some boy she barely knew, a boy who was tapping his fingers to the beat of a Dolly Parton song, who quoted dorky sci-fi movies and did impressions. It baffled her, that she could feel so comfortable with someone she had met only several weeks ago – but at the same time, it excited her to no end.

"Hey, are you hungry?" Sam asked suddenly, side-eyeing her. He noticed she would be perky and happy one minute, but then drift off to another world the next. It intrigued him, but then again, practically everything about Quinn was intriguing.

"Actually, now that you mention it…kind of," she admitted sheepishly, strands of blonde hair falling across her face. "What'd you have in mind?"

"Drive-thru," he gestured towards the upcoming fast food joint and she nodded in agreement. After ordering and paying, Sam maneuvered the truck into an empty spot and they hopped out, finding a nearby picnic table in a secluded park. Normally, Quinn wouldn't have even considered prolonging the short drive from Matt Rutherford's house to her own, but with Sam, it felt as if she _had _to take a risk. "So, do you have a curfew?" the blonde boy asked, in between bites of his burger.

She had to stop eating so she could properly laugh at that one. In the past month alone, Quinn couldn't count how many times her mother had been passed out as soon as she got home, either from a drunken haze or pure exhaustion. Ever since her father left them, it was as if Quinn and her mom had stopped caring for one another. "No, I don't. Do you?"

"No, but I have to be up early tomorrow. Church on Sundays," he shrugged, stuffing a French fry in his mouth.

"You go to church?" she asked, her eyebrows rising in surprise. "Wasn't expecting that one,"

"Why? Because I'm a football player?"

"No, because you're a guy," she shot back. "And guys don't normally admit to going to church. At least, none of the guys I've ever met. I go too," she added, seeing Sam's eyes light up in puzzlement and for a split second; Quinn considered telling him why she had been crying that night. He was so open and honest and unafraid to be vulnerable with her – it was as if it'd be rude not to be the same way.

"Maybe I'll see you there,"

"Maybe," the silence between them hung in the air and Quinn's mind drifted off to wander with the sounds of the crickets nearby. She heard the creaking of a swing and felt a shiver run down her spine, but she couldn't be sure whether it was from the nighttime or from Sam, who was trying to search her face for an expression.

"So, what happened tonight?" he asked hesitantly. Quinn's head snapped back towards him and as her eyes met his trusting gaze, she felt her walls closing in on her. Standing up abruptly and wrapping the rest of her uneaten burger at rapid speed, she avoided his shocked stare, letting blonde strands cover her worried face.

"It's getting late, we should go."

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><p>Sam locked his truck and sluggishly walked up the school steps on Monday morning, shielding his eyes from the sunlight streaming across the courtyard. Heading straight for his locker, he paid no attention to the people around him, until someone patted his back in greeting, causing the blonde boy to nearly drop from a sudden heart attack.<p>

"Geez! That's five years off my life, man," Sam chuckled, running his hand over the back of his neck, trying to calm down.

"Sorry! Why so spooked?" Mike Chang, clad in his letterman jacket, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, leaning comfortably against the lockers.

"Tough morning," Sam shrugged, recalling almost getting run over by a speeding car on his run earlier that morning.

"That sucks. Anyway, what'd you get up to over the weekend? I totally lost track of you at Rutherford's party!" He punched the blonde in the arm playfully, as they made their way towards Mr. Schue's homeroom.

"I got caught up," Sam shrugged, sliding into a seat. "Actually, I…I gave Quinn a ride home,"

Mike's eyebrows shot up questioningly and he leaned on his crossed arms, dropping his voice to a low whisper. "You left with the Queen Bee?"

"It's just Quinn, dude,"

"Does Puckerman know?"

"I don't think so. I mean, unless she said something," he paused, letting a group of students walk through the aisle, before resuming the conversation. "Besides, it ended all weird. She's kind of been avoiding me, I think,"

"How do you know? We've only been in school for like, ten minutes,"

Sam bit his lip, debating telling his friend that he had actually seen her at church on Sunday morning. She had been dressed in a cotton, lace dress, with a white headband in her hair and for some reason, the entire outfit stuck in his mind – as if it were ironic, or something, that she would be dressed like an angel at church. Hearing the classroom door open, Sam dragged his gaze upwards and stared, as Quinn sauntered in, her head held high. She took a seat at the front of the class, not once looking over at him and Sam felt his heart take a nosedive, as he saw Noah Puckerman lean down and give his girlfriend a soft kiss.

It was stupid, he knew. He had barely known the girl for more than a couple of weeks and already he was feeling jealous – something he had no right to feel. She wasn't his and he wasn't hers. Sam tried hard to convince himself that aside from Puck, they had no connection. But still, try as he might, he kept a close eye on her. _'There's a reason why she was upset that night, why she didn't want to talk about it,'_ he thought. Maybe it was up to Sam to figure it out, to help her in some way.

He watched, as she coyly lowered her head and peeked out from underneath the silky, golden strands of hair. His heart nearly skipped a beat when he noticed that she had stealthily turned to glance at him and their eyes locked. He felt his breath catch in his throat, as if the world was closing in on him, but then it was over – she snapped her head back to face the front of the class and he let out a deep sigh.

'_Or maybe she really is avoiding me.'_

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><p>Quinn snapped her hairclip into place, fluffing out her blonde locks so they settled around her shoulders in soft waves. Dabbing at her lips with her fingertips, she grabbed the textbook she needed for her homework that night, slammed her locker door shut, and flounced out of the school building. The courtyard was mostly empty on a Monday afternoon, but she managed to spot Rachel at the far end of the parking lot. Quinn lightly jogged over, careful to keep her balance in her espadrille wedges.<p>

"Hey," she set her textbook and purse down on the hood of car and joined Rachel, who had one side of her earphones plugged in. They perched on top of the old car, swinging their legs in time to the music coming from the iPod, a cool breeze ruffling through their hair.

"Hey. Where've you been?"

"I went to go see Grayson about homework," Quinn shrugged, jumping up onto the car. "I thought the boys would be out already,"

"Coach Beiste made them run a couple more laps. On some level, that has to qualify as child abuse," she giggled and Quinn smiled. Waiting for their boyfriends after football practice had practically become a tradition between the two girls. Sometimes Tina, who was especially hard to talk to when Mike was shirtless, would join them. Sometimes Santana and Brittany would stop by and there were even times when Artie, Sugar, Rory, and Mercedes would hang out just a little longer.

There was a fence separating the school's parking lot and the track and field grounds, where the Cheerios and Titans practiced. It was hard to believe that last year, Quinn had been on the other side of the fence, being tossed into the air and tightening her ponytail. Now, as she sat on the hood of Finn's old Chevy, she smoothed out her floral dress and played with the ends of her hair, gazing at the life she once had. To be fair, the decision to quit the Cheerios hadn't exactly affected where she stood in terms of popularity. _'But still. I was somebody back then. My own person,'_ she thought to herself.

Quinn felt Rachel rustling beside her and with a quick glance; saw the brunette jump off the car and race towards her boyfriend, who was ambling out from the field. She leapt into his arms and Quinn smiled, as Finn twirled his girlfriend around.

"Hey, Quinn," he nodded at her, tossing his gym bag into the car.

"Hey. Where's Puck?"

"Um," the tall boy rubbed the back of his head uncomfortably. "He told me to tell you that he's going out for a bite to eat with some of the guys,"

Quinn felt her heart twist. It wasn't the first time Puck had done it, but lately, they had been growing more and more distant. He was late to dates, didn't bother to call, and more than once, she had caught him asking for other girls' numbers. Before she had a chance to react, Quinn caught Finn's pained expression and she saw Rachel's nose crinkle in worry – it was all too much. Letting a flash of annoyance cross her own face, Quinn held her head high and shrugged.

"He did say he might be going out. Anyway, I'll catch up with you guys later," snatching her things from the hood of the car, Quinn turned to head back to the empty courtyard. Behind her, she could hear Finn and Rachel pleading for her to stay. The football player offered her a ride home and her overdramatic best friend was already babbling about a revenge plan, but Quinn knew the drill. If she headed back and took the ride home, they would ask questions. Why did Puck bail on her? Did they have a fight? Were they breaking up?

No. She wasn't going to answer their questions and she wasn't going to give them a chance to see her cry. Instead, Quinn pushed open the double doors into McKinley High, raced towards the closest classroom she could find, and let her tears fall down her cheeks in silence.

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><p>Sam fiddled with the click wheel on his iPod, trying to find the perfect song to go with his mood. He had just finished a strenuous football practice, but it was the good kind – the kind where a hard workout and intense drills had brought out the best player he could be, regardless of the fact that his muscles were aching and his legs felt like jelly. Settling on an old Goo Goo Dolls song, he sauntered through the empty corridors, running through the homework he had to get done later that night. <em>'English book, Math problems, Spanish verbs…wait, I had Astronomy work to do,'<em> he stopped in his tracks, suddenly feeling panicked. Forcing his backpack open, Sam searched for his Astronomy textbook and groaned in frustration when he realized he had probably left it in class.

"Great," he muttered, making his way towards Mrs. Wilcox's classroom. The entire school was quiet, since football practice had run later than usual, so when Sam heard sniffling and soft sobs coming from the other side of the door, he was downright confused. He knocked on the door softly and opened it, greeted by the same smell of old textbooks and solar system mobiles that were a staple in the Astronomy room. To his surprise, he found Quinn, who was perched on top of a desk, her legs swinging underneath her.

"Hey," she sniffed, wiping her cheeks.

"Um. Hey,"

'_Yeah, that was a great start to the conversation, Sam. You're a genius,'_ he thought, mentally beating himself up.

"Sorry, I'm just…"

"No, it's okay. I left my textbook in here and I need it for tonight, so…" he shrugged, dropping his backpack and heading to the back of the room to check his seat. Uncomfortable silence hung in the air between them and Sam's mind raced with a million thoughts. Why was she hiding out in a classroom by herself after everybody had gone? Where was Puck? Did she need another ride home? He rummaged through several desks, before pulling out a textbook with his name on it, sighing in relief. "Got it," he said, waving it in the air – only to hit one of the hanging solar systems dangling from the ceiling. He flailed and tried to escape, but somehow ended up with his arm twisted in the wires uncomfortably.

Across the room, Quinn had witnessed the whole, embarrassing, stumbling thing. A soft giggle fell from her lips, as she jumped off the desk and tried to help him, her fingers gently brushing against his arm. They were face to face, and as Quinn stood on her tiptoes, trying to wedge him free, Sam couldn't help but look up at her. There were definite tear marks across her cheeks and her eyes were red and puffy – not unlike the expression she wore when him and Rachel found her at the party.

"Wait, I've…there! Got it!" she pulled away and he felt his arm drop to his side.

"Thanks. I'm not usually…actually, just thanks," he chuckled, running a hand through his hair nervously. "Are you waiting for someone?"

"No, I'm…" Quinn started, before casting her gaze away from him. She fiddled with the bottom of her dress, rolling the fabric between her fingers, before hesitantly looking into his green eyes again. "Actually, I could really use someone to talk to," she whispered, hoping with all her heart that she didn't seem needy or vulnerable in any way. To her relief, Quinn saw a smile stretch across Sam's lips, as he nodded slowly and set the Astronomy textbook down on a nearby desk. He pulled out a chair and sat in it backwards, his arms crossed over the back, shaking his head to get the strands of blonde hair out of his eyes.

"What's up, Quinn?" his voice was deep, husky, gentle, and soft. She felt his words envelop her and throwing caution to the wind, she hopped up onto the desk and leaned forward to talk.

If anybody had walked past Mrs. Wilcox's classroom then, they would've seen just a boy and a girl having a conversation. But on the other side of the door, hidden from what the world could see on the surface, was a connection they couldn't explain.


	5. Chapter 4: Every Night is Another Story

**Hi everybody! Okay, first off, sorry for the delay in the chapter, I've been spending a lot of time with my family and stuff, so yes. :) But thank you so much for all your reviews, I appreciate it so much! You guys say the nicest things - makes me all warm and fuzzy on the inside. Haha.**

**So, the last chapter wasn't my absolute favorite, it was more of a filler type thing. But hopefully, this one makes up for it, because I really like it! I hope you guys do too, so please read and review and let me know what you think! :) **

**Obviously, I don't own Glee. Duh. Otherwise it would've been a Sam/Quinn kiss, NOT a Sam/Mercedes kiss. I also apologize in advance for my obvious lack of American football knowledge. :P**

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: Every Night is Another Story<strong>

Quinn swung her legs underneath her, the silence enveloping her small frame. She felt safe in the Astronomy classroom – contained and secure. Lifting her head up, she saw Sam, the boy who had unknowingly stumbled into the room (and her life, so to speak), looking up at the solar system mobiles that hung from the ceiling. It was strange that she felt safe with him, but it was unexplainable, as if a connection had drawn them together. _'Fate?' _she thought to herself. _'Don't be ridiculous. There's no such thing as fate, you hopeless romantic.'_

"Tell me about Nashville," she said suddenly. When Quinn had told him that she needed someone to talk to, they had stayed quiet for the first few minutes and she was actually starting to think it was all a bad idea – some misguided attempt to feel close to someone she barely knew, a desperate reach for understanding.

"Well, it's a pretty cool place to live and the live music there is great. Actually, I had an after-school job working on the farm," Sam chuckled.

"A…farm?" she wrinkled her nose, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Yeah, I drove a tractor and helped out with the animals. It's dorky, I know,"

"Did you wear a cowboy hat and boots?"

"As a matter of fact, I did. It was awesome," he replied, in a thick Southern accent, which caused Quinn to burst into giggles. They stayed like that for a while, just smiling at each other, the solar system mobiles spinning above their heads. "You know, we've got to stop running into each other like this," Sam pointed out.

"Like what?"

"Me finding you in tears," his voice was direct and he looked into her eyes, as he said those words, and suddenly, Quinn felt him start to get too close. Jumping off the table she was sitting on, she gathered her books and her purse, hugging them tightly to herself. "Quinn, I…I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cross a line or anything,"

"No, it's…you're right," she held her hand up, as if to stop him from getting any closer.

"Quinn, I'm not…"

"I have to go," she choked out, pulling the classroom door open and running straight towards the exit. As the cool afternoon air hit her face, Quinn let out a sigh of relief. _'Geez, what is that? I'm the one who said I could use someone to talk to and the minute he starts getting close, I freeze up like some lunatic!'_ she thought to herself, a hand clutching the staircase's railing. Panting heavily, Quinn couldn't help but wonder why she always seemed to bolt at the first sign of friendship. How did she even manage to have friends in the first place, when she obviously couldn't let someone new in?

She leaned against the cool railing for several minutes, catching her breath, until she realized she had no place to go. Quinn didn't drive to school and she had been counting on Puck to drive her home – that was clearly not an option anymore. Frantically searching the parking lot for a car that hadn't gone home yet, her gaze fell upon a solitary, beaten up truck – Sam's. Admitting defeat, she knew he was her only option. Before she could gather her things and turn back inside to ask him for another favor, she felt a warm hand on the small of her back that caused her spine to tingle.

"I'm guessing you need a ride?" his familiar voice comforted her almost immediately and without even batting an eyelid, she just nodded and followed him to the truck, tossing in her things and jumping in.

The ride back to her house was quiet – Sam didn't want to press any further and Quinn didn't want to offer anything, so they sat in slightly uncomfortable silence, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The car spluttered to a stop in front of her driveway and with only the soft sound of Dolly Parton in the background (for some reason, he hadn't changed the CD since the night of the party), Quinn fiddled uncomfortably with the door handle, debating staying and bolting out of the car as fast as she could. She heard Sam sigh and decided it was time to man up – after all, he had been nothing but gentlemanly, even after she had bailed on his personal questions and avoided him.

"I'm sorry," her voice was shaky and hesitant, but those two words caused Sam to face her with an earnest, sincere expression written across his face.

"There's nothing for you to be sorry about,"

"Yes, there is," Quinn sighed, taking off her seatbelt and turning to face him. "Look, Sam, I'm…I'm not the greatest at letting people in. My friends are my friends and they love me for who I am, even after all the mistakes and crazy they have to put up with, so I've never really…let anybody else get close. I mean, I didn't need to," she rambled.

"Okay…"

"And I guess I'm just not used to becoming someone's friend. You know, having to start from scratch again. But you're…I mean, you're right. You're always there when I'm feeling down and you make me feel…" she clamped a hand over her mouth, realizing her next words could move the conversation into a territory she knew she couldn't afford to enter. "I _do_ want to be friends. I'm sorry I've been giving you mood whiplash," she chuckled nervously. There was a pause before Sam inhaled deeply and looked at her from the driver's seat.

"Your issues are your own issues, Quinn. But you can always talk to me if you want," he shrugged.

"Thanks," they exchanged smiles and for a moment, Quinn felt like burying herself in his arms, happy they had finally gotten things cleared up. Maybe it wasn't going to be hard letting him in, especially if she didn't let him in all the way. She liked having him around, she didn't know why or what difference it made, but having Sam around was like a security blanket – she felt safer, protected, and happier.

"Anyway, I should get going. Thanks for the ride, Sam. I appreciate it," she gave him a soft smile, before jumping out of the truck and closing the door.

"No problem. I'll see you at school tomorrow?"

"Yeah, definitely," Quinn clutched her books tighter and drawing in a big breath, she started towards her front door. After two steps, a thought occurred to her and she turned back around to face Sam, who was obviously waiting until she got inside safely. Making sure he could hear her, she looked at him straight in the eyes.

"You're not like most boys, Sam Evans,"

And with a well-rehearsed hair flip, she walked up the driveway confidently, leaving behind a dumbstruck blonde boy grinning stupidly from ear to ear.

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><p>"So you're saying Trouty Mouth drove you home after the party last weekend? And he didn't try to put the moves on you? Gay," Santana Lopez said definitively, singing the last word in a high-pitched voice, a laugh escaping her lips.<p>

"He's not gay, San," Quinn rolled her eyes, licking her spoon of frozen yogurt clean.

It was a Thursday afternoon and with McKinley High's big football game scheduled for Friday night, the Cheerios and the football team had the day off to rest – which of course meant it was the perfect time for a shopping trip and gossip session. Santana, Rachel, Tina, and Quinn had exhausted all the shops at the Lima Mall and were now stuffed into an oversized booth at one of the best ice cream places in town.

"Do you know that for a fact?"

"No, I don't. But he's not…he's just not, okay?" the blonde sighed exasperatedly. "Hey, where are Mercedes and Brittany? Shouldn't they be here by now?"

"Brittany found a store that can iron any design you want on a t-shirt. So I think she's having one made for Rory's birthday next week," Rachel replied, her fingers busy with her phone.

"That's great, but can you please stop texting your T-Rex of a boyfriend? Geez," Santana reached across the table and snatched the phone out of the petite brunette's hands, causing her to shriek.

"San!"

"You'll live," the Latina rolled her eyes and tucked the small device into her purse, before turning her full attention to Quinn. "So, are you going to get up on that or what?"

"Excuse me?"

"_That_. Guppy Lips just walked in," Santana gestured towards the entrance of the shop and for a split second, Quinn thought her friend was blatantly lying. Letting curiosity get the best of her, she looked over her shoulder and sure enough – Sam and Mike had both strolled into the store and were sitting at the counter. Quinn immediately felt her insides tense up and her stomach turn in knots. They hadn't been avoiding each other since he drove her home after the Astronomy classroom fiasco. In fact, Quinn found herself liking his company more and more and for the past three days, he had sat next to her at their lunch table. Of course, it helped that Puck had gotten detention for the week – although Sam and Quinn's sudden closeness obviously hadn't gotten past the rest of her friends.

"Quinn, you're dating Puck. Just remember that," Rachel warned.

"Oh, get _over_ yourself, Berry! Puckerman is totally MIA. And besides, it's like Q said. They're just friends, right?" Santana snickered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. The blonde turned back to her friends, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly.

"Whatever,"

"Speak for yourself. Hi, Mike!" Tina gulped down the rest of her smoothie and started waving manically at the two boys seated at the counter, causing Santana and Rachel to burst into laughs. Tina Cohen-Chang was fairly reserved, for the most part. But when it came to her boyfriend, both Asians were incredibly unpredictable – a fact that was definitely not helping Quinn any.

She watched out of the corner of her eye, as Sam jumped off the bar stool and begrudgingly followed Mike to their table. He was dressed in a wife-beater and basketball shorts, his hair was damp, and his cheeks were flushed pink. The minute words began to tumble from his big lips, Quinn found a part of herself relaxing and she immediately felt at ease again. _'What in the world is this stupid effect?' _she screamed internally.

"We just went for a run," Sam said, running a hand through his hair, standing idly by the girls' crowded booth. He had noticed Quinn the minute they walked through the doors, dressed in a pretty, floral sundress. It was hard to take his eyes off her; she seemed to emit some sort of glow or angelic energy every time she was in the room. It sounded ridiculous, even Mike had said so, but that was the way he felt.

"Work out addicts, much?" Santana commented, licking her ice cream spoon clean. "Are you guys ready for tomorrow night?"

"The Knights? Aw, come on, San. You know they're an easy team to beat," Mike chuckled, dropping a kiss on his girlfriend's forehead.

"What about you, Sam? Nervous for your first Titans football game?" Tina asked.

"Sort of. I'll be alright," the blonde boy shrugged.

"You'll be fine," Quinn assured him. They exchanged a fleeting look and for a moment, she felt the whole world melt away around her. Somehow, and she didn't know how, Sam had become such a prominent figure in her life over the past week. Without him around, she felt on edge, as if she could fall apart any minute and nobody would be there to put her back together.

"Anyway, we should probably get going," Mike piped in, causing Sam and Quinn to break their gaze. After a round of goodbyes and quick hugs, the boys left, leaving the girls to go back to their conversation.

"Well, that solves it. Quinn and Trouty Mouth are totally going to get it on,"

"Santana!"

"Actually, I sort of agree with her,"

"Thanks a lot, Rach,"

"The hobbit speaks the truth. You and Sammy Evans were totally eye…"

"I am begging you, Santana, please don't finish that sentence,"

"Just saying, Q,"

* * *

><p>The tension in the air was palpable, as the last few minutes began to tick loudly on the giant scoreboard at the McKinley High football field. In the stands, Rachel, Tina, Quinn, Kurt, and other members of their Glee club were clasping their hands in anticipation for the next touchdown. The Titans were losing in the first half of the game, but had somehow managed a comeback after the halftime show – causing everybody in the stands to pray for a win over the Knights.<p>

"Rachel, you must be so proud. Finn is playing fantastically!" Blaine commented, adjusting the scarf around his neck.

"He'd be playing a lot better if the Knights would just drop dead," the brunette muttered underneath her breath. There was an intense look in her eyes of determination and passion, her small hands clenched in fists.

"Okay, you need to relax, Barbara. He's playing great. Now just focus, send him happy thoughts, and be proud of how hot your man looks out there," Tina giggled, slinging an arm over her friend's shoulders. "Of course, not as hot as mine does," she added, chuckling to herself. "Quinn, you alright?"

The blonde, who had been quiet for the second half of the game, turned to her friend, her eyes wide. She nodded hesitantly. "I'm fine. Just…you know. Nervous for the boys," Quinn shrugged.

"Puck is playing awesome. Did you see the last throw he made?" Sugar Motta, the youngest member of their Glee club, piped in. Quinn just gave her a small smile and turned her attention back to the game.

The truth was that Quinn had seen the pass Puck had made, of course she had. But she had also seen who had caught the ball and ever since then, she couldn't keep her eyes off him – Sam Evans. It was the first time she was seeing him play and aside from the occasional practices when she would watch, Quinn had never really seen him in action. He was graceful, quick, agile, and incredibly smart when it came to the game. He was level headed and cautious, taking calculated risks and he always seemed to be wherever the ball was. Unlike Puck, who played ferociously, Sam thought the game through and managed to execute the perfect passes and touchdowns to get the Titans back on track.

"30 seconds on the clock! 30 seconds!" Rachel's shrieking pierced through Quinn's thoughts and for the next several seconds, the crowd was screaming and cheering, as they watched the McKinley High football team block a pass from the Knights to win the game. As the final buzzer sounded, Quinn was swept into a group hug and her eardrums pounded with the noisy celebrations that surrounded her. With her heart beating twice as fast, she raced down the bleachers with Rachel and Tina, climbing over the small fence to join the Titans and Cheerios on the field.

Before Quinn could realize what was happening, a strong pair of arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her into the air. Turning around in his grip, she looked down to see Puck, grinning up at her. There was a flitter of disappointment, until she grinned back and leaned down to kiss him on the lips.

'_That's it, Q. You're the girlfriend, that's how you play the part,'_

* * *

><p>An hour and a half after the game ended, Sam found himself leaning against the living room wall of the Hudson-Hummel house, a bottle of water in one hand and a napkin with a girl's name and phone number scrawled across it in the other. It was like he had stepped into a different world – one where he was officially a part of the McKinley High football team that had just won. The minute he had walked into the party, right behind Mike and Tina, a swarm of girls had descended upon him as if he were the only glass of water in a barren desert.<p>

It was life-changing, how being a part of something special could put you on the map. But even though his cell phone was now filled with random girls' numbers, Sam couldn't help but replay the winning moment in his mind over and over again. He had been swept up in the hugs and screams and laughter, but there was a moment of clarity when he stepped back from the crowd and looked out at the empty football field. He had watched as Rachel leaped into Finn's arms, he saw Mike and Tina cheering alongside Sugar and Mercedes, and he saw several football players doing some sort of a conga line towards the locker rooms. In the midst of all the celebration, Sam's gaze had fallen on Quinn and Puck, who had been locked in a romantic embrace that was so intimate it made his stomach turn nervously just thinking about it.

It wasn't because he was jealous of Puck. It was just that Puck didn't seem to really understand Quinn. _'Oh, and you do?'_ the voice in his head mocked him mercilessly. Exhaling loudly, Sam ran a hand through his hair and pushed himself off the wall, wading through the sea of people, suddenly desperate for more space. He passed a couple of his teammates, exchanging high fives and handshakes, before stepping out into the night air, the chill rushing over his shoulders and the wind ruffling his hair. Taking in several deep, relaxing breaths, Sam walked to the side of the house, and decided to sit against an old oak tree, hoping for some peace and quiet. He stayed like that for a while, thinking about the game and then, thinking about Puck and Quinn. _'Maybe it's time I stop the whole Quinn thing. It's clear she just wants to be friends, anyway. I'm turning it into something more than it is,'_ he thought. Just as Sam coached himself into going back to the party, he heard the unforgettable sound of someone getting sick. Despite his better judgment, he peered around the oak tree and sucked in a breath at the sight.

* * *

><p>Quinn Fabray rarely got wasted. Save for a fun girls night during sophomore year and a stupid decision to randomly raid her mother's liquor cabinet, she never really drank to get drunk. So what she was doing at the after-party of a football game her boyfriend and high school had just won was completely out of character. She knew it was going to happen – the minute she walked into the party and noticed Puck in the corner, whispering into a Cheerio's ear, she knew exactly what would happen. Maybe it was because they were at a party, maybe it was because of Sam Evans, or maybe it was because she was just really sick of everything, but Quinn headed straight for the kitchen, grabbed several bottles, and holed herself up in Finn's room. If it hadn't been for some random couple stumbling in, she probably would have stayed there. Instead, she had staggered downstairs, miraculously found her way to the front door, and headed straight for the side of the house, where she unfortunately hurled everything back up again.<p>

It was vile and stupid and she was spinning, but as Quinn laid her cheek down in the cold, wet grass, she felt content. As if she could sleep forever. There were no expectations, no obligations, and no acceptance of terms. She could lie there and not have to worry about belonging anywhere or to anybody.

Of course, that was unrealistic.

Because then, she felt a pair of strong arms underneath her and for a split second, Quinn actually thought it was her so-called boyfriend – until she inhaled and realized it wasn't. Instead, she came face to face with sweet, concerned, familiar features and she felt herself being carried and laid down in the backseat of a truck. It became a blur, as images and memories started flickering and trickling into her subconscious. The only thing she could remember was the car starting and Sam Evans' face staring back at her with worry.

* * *

><p>He had taken care of drunk girls before. They were usually loud, stumbling in their high heels, and taking off their clothes. But leave it to Quinn to be completely different. He had found her lying down in the grass, curled up in a ball, a content smile on her lips. When he asked her where Puck was, she had sighed and shrugged. When he asked her if she was okay, she had shook her head. So when he asked her if he should leave, Sam definitely didn't expect her to murmur that she wanted him to stay. So he had done the only thing he could think of – pick her up and carry her back to his truck, intent on making sure she got home safe.<p>

The ride home was quiet and he was relieved to see that she had fallen asleep. As he slowed to a stop in front of her house, the unexpected bump in the road caused her to spring up from her sleeping position, mumbling incoherently about where she was and what she was doing.

"You're fine, Quinn. You're home now," he said soothingly, looking back at her.

"Sleep…" the word rolled off her lips and her head dipped forward slightly. Sam just nodded and picked her up in his arms again, heading inside the house and up the stairs, hoping he could somehow just _know_ which room hers was. Luckily, she pointed sleepily to an open door and he kicked it open softly, crossing the room and gently setting her down on the bed.

"Okay, you try and get some sleep, alright? If you're still feeling sick…just roll over and there's the trash can, okay?" he assured her softly, running his fingers through her blonde hair.

"Mmkay…thank you, Sammy," she mumbled, her half-lidded eyes looking up at him. "Your eyes are really green," she added, reaching up and tangling her fingers in his hair. To Sam's surprise, Quinn leaned over and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek, resting her forehead on his. In a soft whisper, she said,

"You're one of the good ones, Sam Evans. You belong to you. Not like me,"

Never in a million years did Sam ever think that on a Friday night, he'd be tucking Quinn Fabray in bed, praying that she wasn't going to forget all of it in the morning. But as he watched her eyes close and tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear, he couldn't imagine anywhere else he could've been.


	6. Chapter 5: The Truth

Hi everyone! Okay, I know I say this every time I put up a new chapter, but man, I'm loving these reviews. :) Haha. Y'all are really nice and just...thank you, so much! :) It's so great to hear that people like what you write. Lol.

Anyway, the last time we saw Sam & Quinn, he took care of her after the big party. This chapter delves into the aftermath of that, but it's kind of just a filler - I really just wanted to get something up and soon. And also, Puck makes an appearance! Haha. Hopefully, you'll be able to see how why Quinn is the way she is. Property and ownership of a person can really affect the way that person thinks, so...keep that in mind. :)

But, here's the next chapter! Read it, review it, and enjoy it!

PS: Obviously, I don't own Glee. If I did, Sam would've been singing Spanish to Quinn. And then they'd get married and have little blonde babies. :P

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: The Truth Doesn't Make a Noise<strong>

The numbers on the radio read 9:57 AM and soft, melancholic music trickled through the speakers, bouncing off the windows of Mrs. Fabray's silver Dodge. Slowly, Quinn lifted her head off the steering wheel and sneaked a glance across the road, where a little blonde girl was playing with her dolls, while her two older brothers threw a baseball back and forth. The entire image was almost too perfect, as if she was watching a 1950's TV show live in action, but as she saw the tallest blonde run and wrap his muscular arms around his little brother, she felt a smile creep up on her.

When Quinn had woken up earlier that morning, she had been greeted with a horrendous and in her opinion, absolutely unnecessary hangover. There had been several missed calls and unanswered text messages on her phone, even a few worried voicemails that she had absentmindedly listened to during her drive to the coffee shop. But most importantly, Quinn had woken up to find a bottle of aspirin, a glass of water, and a thoughtful, handwritten note on her bedside table, all from one Sam Evans. It had brought the previous night crashing into her memory – getting wasted, throwing up in the bushes, Sam's arms around her, and the fact that she had kissed him on the cheek before he left. The fact that he hadn't taken advantage of a drunk, vulnerable, pathetic shell of a girl only baffled Quinn and even though she had a reputation to protect, she couldn't let a good deed go unnoticed. Somewhere between dreaming and passing out, she realized she couldn't keep someone out forever, that maybe all it took was one person to break down her walls. And if that one person happened to be Sam Evans, who had been nothing less than absolutely respectful and honorable, then so be it. He deserved answers and this time, Quinn wasn't going to hold back.

"Alright, here goes nothing," she whispered to herself, grabbing two to-go cups of coffee and climbing out of the car. Making sure to lock it, she crossed the road and found herself facing a simple, modest, two-storey home. The front yard was well tended, the kind of neatness that could only be achieved with loving hands and dedicated time. Toys were strewn across the grass, a tire swing hung from a lower branch on the big oak tree in the corner and Quinn spotted a shed off to the side that spilled out more toys, baseballs, footballs, and basketballs onto the ground.

"Sammy! There's somebody here!" the little girl yelled out to her big brother, immediately abandoning her toys to run to his side.

"Stace, wait…!" Sam grunted, as the she flung herself at his leg and he fumbled to catch the ball that was coming his way. Ending up in a tangled mess of limbs on the grass, Quinn couldn't help but stifle a giggle as she walked up to him, her shadow hovering over him.

"Hey, Sam," she shrugged her shoulders apologetically, a smile tugging at her lips.

"Quinn?" he ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up even more, and got back on his feet, balancing Stacy on his hip. "What are you doing here?"

"Um. I brought coffee?" she offered.

"Sammy, you said you'd help me practice my throwing!" the little blonde boy cried, fighting his way in between Sam and Quinn.

"Dude, chill out," he said, setting his little sister down. Stacy immediately hid behind her older brother's leg, obviously shying away from Quinn. "Listen, buddy, it's almost ten and mom promised to take you out to get new baseball gear, remember?" he reminded the little boy, who (after a minute of consideration) sprinted back into the house as fast as he could.

"Little brother?" Quinn asked.

"Yeah, that's Stevie. He's a good kid, he's just a pain sometimes," Sam shrugged.

"He looks so much like you,"

"If that's the case, he's going to grow up to be one good-looking man," he joked. They exchanged smiles and it was silent between them for a second, until Stevie came running out of the house. A tall, blonde woman followed closely behind and Sam quickly introduced them.

'_Well, this is a first. I can't believe I'm actually meeting his mom. I've been dating Puck for god knows how long and I still haven't met his family,'_ Quinn thought to herself. In a matter of minutes, she had gone from unknown outsider to feeling warm and welcomed at the Evans household. It was strange to Quinn, that a stranger's home could feel more accepting and comfortable than her own. Here, it was family first. In the Fabray house, it was every man for himself. She watched as Mrs. Evans helped Stevie into the car and they drove away in an old station wagon, trying to remember when was the last time she and her own mother had gone shopping together.

"Hey, Stacy, can you play in the yard, while I talk to Quinn? I'm asking nicely,"

"Okay," the blonde girl nodded her head and started walking towards her dolls, before turning back and running up to Quinn. Shyly, she tugged on her hand to get the older girl's attention. "You have pretty hair. Like a princess,"

"Thanks, Stacy," Quinn grinned, kneeling down so she was at eye level. "You know, we have the same hair color. I think…yup, that definitely makes you a princess," she tapped the little girl's nose playfully.

"Really?"

"Wait, it's missing one thing," Quinn pulled out the flower hairclip that was holding back her bangs and gently swept aside Stacy's so she could fasten it properly. "There you go. Definitely a princess. The prettiest one I've ever had the pleasure of meeting," she smiled. Stacy's mouth fell open in awe and instead of muttering a thank you, she squealed and flung her arms around Quinn's neck.

"Alright, squirt. Play, dolls, now," Sam interrupted, ruffling his sister's hair. Stacy let go of Quinn, wrinkled her nose up at her big brother, and then ran off to play. "Sorry about that,"

"No, she's sweet,"

"You're really good with kids,"

"I used to volunteer at a daycare center," she confessed, dusting off her skirt. Handing Sam one of the to-go cup of coffees, they made their way towards the front porch, where they both settled on the white wicker swing that hung from the roof.

"Ah, makes sense. Sorry you had to…y'know, meet my whole family," Sam chuckled. "It's a lot to take in,"

"No, you guys are really sweet. A real family,"

"As opposed to a fake one?"

"As opposed to one that isn't as whole," Quinn mused. She saw his eyebrows perk up in question and quickly decided to change the subject. "Listen, about last night…"

"Don't worry about it," he waved his hand dismissively.

"No, Sam, I…I'm sorry," she swallowed, trying to regain her composure. "I was a mess and you didn't have to bring me home or take care of me. It was a really nice thing to do, especially for someone who doesn't even really know me," Quinn's voice had dropped to a whisper and she was anxiously picking at her plastic cup, trying to find the right words.

"I'm trying to. Get to know you, I mean," Sam admitted. "You're tough to figure out, Fabray," he joked.

"That's what they tell me," she laughed, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"How are you feeling?"

"Better. The hangover isn't bad, it's the…aftermath,"

"Are you going to tell me what happened or are we just going to stay clear of that?" Sam asked bluntly. Quinn sighed, kicking off her flats and pulling her legs underneath her. Tucked in a small corner of the white wicker porch swing, she was small, fragile, and vulnerable. Under any other circumstance, she would've ran away, hopped back in the car, and driven back home.

'_No. This is Sam. He brought you home last night, took care of you, and he's not going to take advantage of you. You don't owe him anything and he's not going to make you feel like you owe him anything,'_ she thought. Because that's really what it was. The minute she decided to open up to him, decided to let down her walls, he would know a part of her and it would bring them closer, which just meant there was a greater chance of being hurt, of being betrayed, of being everything she tried desperately to avoid.

"Last night…it was just that I saw Puck with another girl and it got to me and I got angry, so then I got drunk and obviously…" she sucked in her breath. "It was a stupid idea,"

"Why was Puck with another girl? He's your boyfriend," Sam asked. Quinn almost burst into laughter at his naïve question. Because really, since when was Puck, _her_ boyfriend? If anything, she was _his_. He never belonged to Quinn, but Quinn belonged to him – that was the way it worked.

"It's just complicated. He and I…it's complicated,"

"Look, if he's not appreciating you, then you deserve better,"

"It's not that easy, Sam,"

"Alright, I know I'm the new guy and I'm not supposed to stick my nose into business that's not mine," Sam scoffed, before turning to face her directly. "But I do know Puck doesn't appreciate you. Clearly,"

"Our relationship is just different,"

"But it could be better," he pressed. Quinn chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully, before sighing.

"Yeah, it could be. But so what? Puck has his moments,"

"I'm not saying he doesn't. But no girl, especially not someone as special as you, should only live with moments. Would you rather have moments or would you rather have forever?" the blonde boy asked, getting up to lean against the railing so he could keep a close eye on his sister.

"You think I'm special?" Quinn asked, looking up at him.

"I mean…y'know…not compared to like, Princess Leia or whatever," Sam stammered. The comparison caused Quinn to giggle and she leaned back into the swing, kicking with her feet so it swayed her back and forth.

"I'm a mess," she commented, after several moments of content silence. Their eyes locked again and this time, neither decided to break it.

Suddenly, the air felt heavier and warmer and Quinn swore her breathing quickened and her heart was beating twice as fast. The porch swing stopped swaying and she put her coffee cup on the side table, before finding her body moving closer and closer towards Sam. His gaze darted from her eyes to her lips and Quinn felt a knot in her stomach from anticipation. As their lips grew closer and closer, she could hear his heart beat and the short breaths he took and the only thing she could really think of was how much she wanted to kiss him. But before either of them could make the first move, the sound of a truck revving next door caused them to spring apart to opposite ends of the swing.

"Quinn, you might be a mess…but I'm not the one who's supposed to fix you,"

* * *

><p>Monday mornings were never fun. There was the whole getting up early aspect, the teachers piling on homework for the rest of the week, and the fact that gossip and memories of the previous weekend were still fresh in everyone's minds. Nobody particularly liked Monday mornings, but Quinn honestly couldn't remember the last time she hated one as much as she did now.<p>

"Just tell me what the fuck happened!" Puck slammed his fist into a nearby locker, his eyes blazing with anger.

"Nothing happened. I just found my own way home on Friday, okay?" Quinn sighed, clutching her books to her chest and trying to get past him. It had only been several minutes into her day when her boyfriend had stormed up to her and started asking questions. _'I'm going to kill Finn,'_ she thought, her eyes quickly scanning the school hallway where a large number of students had quieted down to hear their argument.

"So you're not into the new kid?" he demanded, the volume of his voice rising.

"Puck, can we please not do this here?" she hissed, grabbing his arm and pulling him into a nearby, empty classroom. "Alright, say what you have to say," she placed her books on the desk and crossed her arms, a defiant expression across her face.

"I get detention for a week and the next thing I know, Finn's coming up to me and telling me that the new kid is moving in on my girl. So why don't you fill in the blanks, Quinn?"

"Nothing is going on between Sam and I! That's his name, by the way," she rolled her eyes. "First of all, I don't know why Finn is poking his nose into our business. Second of all, I was being _nice_," Quinn insisted.

"You're never just _nice_, Q," Puck raised his eyebrows skeptically.

"Well, maybe…maybe something changed. I don't know! Why does it even matter if I like him or not anyway? You're busy flirting with every Cheerio you can get your hands on!" Quinn cried, feeling the anger rise in her stomach.

"I don't know what you're talking about,"

"Oh, cut the crap, Noah. You don't think I saw you at that party on Friday night? Sure, you came with me, but you ditched me the minute we got there. And it's not the first time it's happened, either, so I really don't know what you want with me," she seethed, stepping closer to him. "But if you happen to figure that out, let me know. I don't like wasting my time," Quinn flipped her hair over her shoulder, grabbed her books, and began walking out the door, when suddenly, she felt Puck's arm grip tightly onto hers. Gasping, she felt her whole body spin around to face him.

"Listen. I'm the damn quarterback and you're _my _girlfriend. So if the school sees you flirting with some new kid - especially one that's trying to take my spot on the team - you can bet I'm going to be pissed," he said menacingly, looking into her hazel eyes.

"I don't _belong _to anybody," Quinn whispered, her voice struggling to maintain some sort of conviction.

"Oh, please," Puck rolled his eyes, letting go of her forcefully. She stumbled back slightly, holding onto the edge of a desk for balance. "Without me, you'd be _nothing_," he chuckled, the sound sending a crawl up Quinn's spine. After a moment of silence, Puck walked over, dropped a hesitant kiss on her forehead and exited the classroom.

That was when it fell apart. Quinn felt the walls close in around her, felt herself struggle to breathe, and before she knew it, uncontrollable sobs shook her body. She didn't know when or how Puck had turned into a terrible boyfriend. He had never physically hurt her, never embarrassed her in public, and never disrespected her in front of her mom or her friends. But behind closed doors, Puck never understood her. There was a crack in their communication lines that just kept opening wider and wider. She remembered a time when Noah Puckerman wasn't a starter on the football team – back when Quinn was still a Cheerio and they were both just regular members of the Glee club. But she couldn't deny it, that after Coach Beiste made him starting quarterback and she decided to quit cheerleading, everything had changed for the worse.

He dropped her calls, stood her up, blatantly flirted with every other girl in school, and Quinn wasn't stupid – there was probably cheating involved, she was sure of it. But for whatever reason, Puck never seemed to make the first move to end things and because of that, Quinn went along for the ride. _'Yeah, well, look where that got you. A crying mess, that's where,'_ she thought bitterly.

Wiping away her tears and smoothing back her hair, Quinn resolved to put a strong face forward, to make sure nobody knew how shaken up she was. With her books in hand and her head held high, she sniffled once, before pushing open the door and heading back out into the sea of students that crowded the school hallway.

God, she hated Monday mornings.


	7. Chapter 6: Brave New World

**Hi everyone! Look, it's a new chapter! Lol. Again, thanks so much for all your reviews & kind words. To Anika Mazumder, I actually totally forgot that Puck wasn't a quarterback on the show! Stupid on my part, but like you said, it is AU. :P Also, Beth didn't happen, but hopefully, there's a little bit more explanation in this chapter as to why Quinn stays with Puck. :)**

**Most of my chapters so far have been titled after One Tree Hill episodes, so I just thought I'd point that out. I don't own that show either, obviously. Lol.**

**Anyway, here's Chapter 6! I really like this chapter, it takes place the same Monday as the previous chapter, so it's just a straight continuation. Quinn starts to realize some things and I'm loving developing her character. :) Hope you like it and please review!**

**Again, I don't own Glee, OTH, or any of these characters. I just hold Sam Evans very close to my heart. :P**

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><p><strong>Chapter 6: Brave New World<strong>

Steam rolled out of the showers, coating the football players in damp, thick air. It was the aftermath of a particularly strenuous practice with Coach Beiste and every teenage boy moved slow in the locker room, desperate for their muscles to feel like muscles again. In the corner, Sam dried off and pulled up his jeans, hopping slightly, before zipping them shut. His hair was still drenched from the shower, but he shook the almost brown strands out of his eyes, his mind already focused on the homework that awaited him the minute he got back home.

Slowly, he pulled a t-shirt out of his duffel bag, his arms aching with the remnants of a good workout. Before he could pull it over his head, he overheard two familiar voices talking on the other side of the lockers.

"I don't get it. Why is she warming up to this Sam kid anyway?"

"He seems like a cool enough guy. At least, that's what Rachel tells me,"

"You believe anything Rachel tells you, Finn. Besides, that's not the point. The point is that I need to keep a girl like Quinn around. I just can't do that if some idiot is trying to swoop in and act all romantic with her,"

"Why? You're cheating on her with the entire cheerleading squad anyway. Not to mention half the school's population of girls,"

"Yeah, but Quinn…she's like gold, you know? The trophy kind,"

"No offense, Puck…but that's kinda low, don't you think?"

"Maybe. Look, the thing is, I don't need the whole school wondering why the hell my girlfriend is snuggling up to some random who's trying to steal my spot on the team. Get it?" Sam could hear the malice and the threats in Puck's voice, but it was almost too ridiculous to believe. He was acting as if Quinn was an object, as if there was some sort of ownership tied to being her boyfriend. Shaking his head at the absurdity of it all, Sam pulled his shirt on, grabbed his bags, slammed his locker shut with extra force, and stalked out of the locker room as quietly as he could, trying not to punch or shove anything in his way out of frustration.

It was one thing if Puck and Quinn were in a happy, healthy relationship. But after the conversation he had overheard and the visit Quinn had paid him earlier that weekend, Sam knew it was far from the truth. Puck didn't appreciate her, but what was worse was that he didn't even make the effort. And if he was cheating on her, why was he so insistent that she stuck around? None of it made any sense and Sam raced through the school halls, trying to get it all out of his head – after all, it wasn't his relationship problem to deal with. Wasn't he the one who told Quinn the very same thing? That he wasn't the one to fix her up, that he wasn't supposed to? _'Yeah, that was before I found out Puck's treating her worse than I thought!'_ he internally screamed at himself.

There was an unexplainable rage that overtook Sam when he heard Puck talking about Quinn. It was as if anger had just bubbled up inside him and if he didn't get out of there, it would've exploded. Pushing open the glass doors to exit the school, he felt the warm Lima air rush over him and he sprinted towards the parking lot. Keeping his gaze to his feet, Sam didn't realize there was another person sitting on the school steps until he nearly tripped over her. Fumbling to get a grip on the railing, his foot caught on her school bag strap and he fell down the rest of the stairs, yelping as his bare elbows and forehead made contact with the concrete.

"Sam? Oh my gosh, are you okay? I'm so sorry!" a familiar voice floated into his ears and he rolled over painfully, only to see Quinn's face come into his blurry vision. "Are you hurt? You were running so fast!" she cried frantically, her hands flailing.

"Whoa, okay, stop," he groaned, wincing at the pain that shot through his forehead. "You're like, talking really loud and my head is spinning,"

"Sorry," she whispered. "Sam, you're…you're bleeding,"

"I'm fine," he exhaled slowly, after a pause. "What are you doing out here, anyway?"

"I was waiting for Puck. He's my ride home," her tone had been soft and comforting, but when her boyfriend's name tumbled from her lips, Sam heard an uncertain edge to her voice – it made his fists clench.

"Oh. Okay. I better get going," gathering all his strength, he pushed himself off the ground and stood, albeit wobbly, on his two feet. Clutching onto the railing for support, he breathed a sigh of relief. "Um, I'll see you around," he mumbled, giving her a half smile, before shuffling uncomfortably towards his truck.

As Quinn watched Sam hobble away, her mind struggled to figure out where she had gone wrong. He was usually laidback, easygoing, and although sometimes dorky, Sam was never awkward or uncomfortable with her. _'It's like he knows something…like the minute he heard Puck's name, he just switched off,'_ she thought bitterly. In such a short time, Quinn had come to cherish her friendship with Sam. The other Glee club members didn't really understand it or even try to, except for Mike and Tina. And because of that, she had to be careful around all of them – with Puck out of detention, Sam didn't linger before and after classes and there was no blonde boy around at lunch to keep her entertained with impressions of famous celebrities. She missed him when he wasn't around, but somehow, it had turned into one or the other – her boyfriend or her friend.

"Hey, Quinn," Puck's smooth voice jarred her thoughts and she spun around, a grin quickly plastered across her face.

"Hi!" she said, her voice a little too enthusiastic. "Um…how was practice?"

"It was fine," Finn spoke up, leaning against the railing tiredly. Giving Quinn the once-over, his eyebrows furrowed. "Why is there blood on your hand?"

"Wh-what?"

"Hey, yeah…what happened, Q? You okay?" Puck asked, gesturing towards her hand. Her eyes wide, Quinn quickly hid her hand from view and bit her lip.

"I was...um, I fell. Tripped going down the stairs. You know how clumsy I am," Quinn giggled falsely, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Puck raised his eyebrows skeptically, but didn't press any further, just shrugged his shoulders and stretched his arms out behind him. Sighing a breath of relief, she looked up at the boys. "So, are we going or what?"

"Hey, what's Sam still doing here?" Finn asked.

'_Damnit Finn, shut up!'_

"Um, he's probably just…late. Or something. I don't know. Let's go," she shrugged, feeling her cheeks fluster. It was ridiculous because really, they had done nothing wrong. But Quinn's thoughts still lingered over the conversation she and Puck had had in the empty classroom earlier that morning – a conversation she really didn't want to repeat.

"Late for what?"

"Geez Finn, I don't know! Celibacy Club? Tennis practice? Knitting lessons with his Nana? Why do you _care_?" she threw her hands up in the air out of frustration. How a smart girl like Rachel Berry could deal with Finn Hudson on a daily basis baffled her, it really did.

"Seems like you do," Puck chimed in easily, his voice back to the smooth, eerily cold tone he had used with her during their conversation earlier that morning.

"Oh, great, this again,"

"No, really. You seem to be in a hurry to get out of here. Is he the reason why?"

"Do you really think I'd be stupid enough to cheat on you in public? At school? Right after football practice? Where you're all on the same team?" she demanded, her eyes blazing with outrage.

"I don't know, are you?"

"In case you've forgotten, Puck, I'm _not you_," she spat out the last two words, her head held high in defiance. There were times when Quinn could easily break down, become vulnerable, and lose her way. But there were also times when her confidence would come blazing back with a force. Despite quitting the Cheerios, Quinn still had the upper hand at McKinley – everybody still feared and loved her. And although most times she preferred being quiet and polite, she couldn't help but shove one back at the world every so often.

"You know what? Find your own ride home," Puck snarled, grabbing his gym bag and flinging it over his shoulders. "C'mon, Finn, let's get out of here,"

Quinn watched as Puck stormed off and Finn followed close behind, after mouthing a quick apology towards her. She saw the car race out of school grounds and only then did she blink, causing several tears to fall down her cheeks. _'Well, that's the second time Puck's made you cry today,'_ she thought bitterly, grabbing her books and messenger bag. Smoothing out the strands of hair that had fallen from her braids, she scanned the parking lot and smirked, noticing a familiar figure leaning against an old truck.

"Hey, Sam!" she called out, jogging towards him. "Think I could get a ride?"

"Always," he grinned, rounding the car to open the passenger door for her. She smiled, following him and tossing her things onto the seat. Before she could climb up into the car, Sam blocked her way with his arm and gazed down at her. "Quinn…" he started, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. He had seen her exchange with Puck and when he saw the boy with the Mohawk leave her stranded, Sam nearly lost control. More than anything, he wanted to punch Puck's face in – but he knew it wasn't his place.

"Can we not…" she was looking everywhere but at him, desperate to let the subject go. Her friendship with Sam was great, but just like how she refused to talk about it with Puck, she refused to talk about Puck with Sam. Sucking in a deep breath, she finally met his gaze. "I just…oh my god,"

"What?"

"Your head!" she cried, reaching past his arms to grab the packet of tissues that poked out from her bag. "And your elbows! I mean…how are you not in pain right now?" Quinn asked, pressing several tissues to a scrape that ran down his forearm.

"Adrenalin?" he offered meekly, shrugging his shoulders. Quinn giggled, shaking her head. His normally bright and sparkling green eyes were clouded over and she noticed him wobbling slightly. With a sigh, she propped his arm over her shoulder and guided him into the passenger seat.

"You're crazy. You're also in no condition to drive. Come on, hand the keys over," she demanded. Surprisingly, he tossed them towards her with no hesitation and in a matter of seconds; they were pulling out of McKinley High.

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><p>Sam struggled to stay awake on the short drive from McKinley to Quinn's house. The scrape on his arms didn't hurt, except for a little sting from the air around him, but the cut on his forehead was beginning to throb and he briefly wondered if gravel had gotten stuck somewhere in there. If it hadn't been for Quinn singing to every song that came on the radio so he would stay awake, he would've passed out already.<p>

"We're here. Stay put, I'll help you out," she ordered, shutting the car off and rushing over to the passenger side.

"You don't have to do this," he mumbled incoherently. She rolled her eyes at him and slung his arm over her shoulders, hobbling into the empty house.

"I owe you one, remember?" she guided him towards the kitchen, instructing him to sit down in one of the dining chairs, as she busied herself with the first aid kit her mother kept in a nearby medicine cabinet.

"Yeah, well…" he shrugged.

Quinn placed the small box on the table and sat next to him, pushing her hair off her shoulders. She pulled out several skin strips, antiseptics, and gauze, lying them all out in front of her.

"Okay, here's the thing," she sighed, facing him. "I can't guarantee like, doctor-level fix up here,"

"As long as you don't rip open a new wound, I think I'll be fine," he chuckled, watching her as she breathed in deeply and curled her fingers around a pair of tweezers, looking up at him for confirmation. He nodded and stuck his head forward. Gently, Quinn rested her left hand on his shoulder for balance and came close to his face, her right hand hesitantly picking at the scrape on his forehead.

"You're lucky you don't need stitches," Quinn laughed nervously. Blood always made her queasy and she had seen enough crime stories to last her a lifetime. But a part of her was also becoming increasingly aware that the space between her body and Sam's had somehow diminished. She was nearly in his lap, hovering slightly over his chest, and she could feel his breath on her exposed neck.

"You're doing great," he assured her. She plucked several pieces of gravel out of his forehead scrape and was grateful that the bleeding had stopped. Picking up the antiseptic wipes, she took extra care in cleaning the wound, wincing every time she felt him shrink back from the painful sting.

"I'm sorry!" she cried helplessly, after a particular swipe that caused him to yelp in pain.

"Relax, relax, it's okay. That just caught me by surprise," he chuckled. After several more minutes of Quinn tending to his forehead and the scrapes on his forearms, she brought out a pitcher of lemonade and two glasses. It was silent between them, Sam biting back the words he wanted to say and Quinn half hoping he'd say them anyway. Finally, after what seemed like an hour of awkward glances, Quinn put her glass down and faced the blonde boy right in his green eyes.

"I know you think Puck doesn't treat me right,"

"He doesn't," Sam replied, without missing a beat.

"Puck is just very…territorial,"

"Which would make sense if he were a caveman, not a high school senior,"

"Sam, come on, I'm being serious here,"

"So am I!" he cried. "Quinn, he doesn't deserve you, how many times do I have to say it? You don't think I didn't see that fight you guys were having in the hallway this morning?" Sam felt the familiar anger bubble up inside him, but as much as he tried to calm himself down, he couldn't. Quinn was so naïve and so accepting – as if Puck could do no wrong.

"You don't know what that was about," she said defensively.

"Then tell me,"

"Sam…"

"No, I just…I just really don't get it, Quinn. He treats you like dirt, he hits on every other girl in school, and it's all right in front of you," Sam's voice dropped to a whisper. "How can you not see it?"

"Maybe because it's easier not to!" she blurted out after a moment's hesitation. Sam's eyes widened with confusion and for a minute, Quinn debated taking it all back. _'This isn't what it's supposed to be like,'_ she thought to herself. Sam didn't need to know about her relationship with Puck – just like how it was vice versa. She had already let him in, didn't she? He was her friend, so why did he need to know _this_ part of her? The part she didn't want anybody else to see, the part she was ashamed of? She glanced up into Sam's green eyes and felt her heart melt a little.

Quinn didn't believe in fate. She didn't believe in destiny or true love and she never really cared for superstition. But looking into Sam's eyes, feeling his gaze on hers, none of it mattered. With one look, he could make the world around her disappear, he could take everything she had ever known to be true and twist it around. Quinn rested on coincidence, but even she knew that too much had happened for her friendship with Sam to be just that. Whether it was a chance meeting thrown together by Rachel on his first day at McKinley or spending their lunch breaks talking about sci-fi movies and classic films, she knew it had to be something else.

Because in that moment, sitting beside him at her kitchen table, staring up at the honest, open expression etched across his face, Quinn realized that Sam Evans was not only making her feel things she couldn't simply ignore, but he was always there whenever she needed someone the most. And maybe, just maybe, that was worth something more than just friendship.


	8. Chapter 7: Resolve

**Hi everyone! Okay, well, this might be the fastest I've updated with another chapter for this fic. Lol. But I swear, this one pretty much wrote itself. It's kinda lengthy, but full of really in-depth stuff, so I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you guys like it. :)**

**Thanks so much for all the reviews! There's one in particular I have to reply to, though.**

**_CailinNollaig_: First off, I fangirled when I saw that you reviewed, because _Lights Will Guide You Home_ has to be one of my favorite Sam/Quinn fics ever. :) I understand what you said about Quinn being irritating, sometimes I'm not quite sure where I want the character to go, so it does get mixed up. There's no big explanation for why she stays with Puck or anything like that, but I mean, we've all been in a relationship that wasn't good for us, right? :P As for writing Sam...oh, he makes it so easy. Haha. Nevertheless, thank you so much for all your kind words! :)**

**As for everybody else who also reviewed, thank you so much. I love that you guys are loving this fic and I'm having so much fun writing it. It's always nice to see feedback though, so please read this chapter and click the little button at the bottom! :)**

**I apologize for my obvious lack of football knowledge. Seriously, that game confuses me, so some of the sports stuff might not be correct. Obviously, I do not own Glee. If I did, I'd have enough money to fly myself to Vegas for Chord's birthday. Lol.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 7: Resolve<strong>

Quinn let the last piece of hair fall from the curling iron, watching as it bounced into place with the rest of her golden strands. She smoothed out an imaginary wrinkle in her lacy white dress and cocked her head to the side, examining her reflection. The girl in the mirror stared back at her – but Quinn realized she couldn't tell who it was. There was a tilt in her lips, a remnant of a smile that used to be there, but was now just covered up with scowls and unwavering silence. Her once sparkling eyes that used to flare brightly were now dim and flickered, struggling to stay lit. _'Pull it together, Quinn. You're not broken, you just think you are. There's a big difference,' _she mentally coached herself, blinking to pull her thoughts back to reality.

Pushing away from the mirror, Quinn crossed her bedroom and grabbed her denim jacket, coaxing it on her shoulder easily. Turning to get a good look at her entire ensemble, she sighed. Was this the image of the perfect girlfriend? It had to be. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she bit her lip, struggling to fight her tears, because ever since she had come to the realization that Sam Evans was something more than a friend (at least, that was what her feelings told her), she didn't feel like she deserved the part of a supportive girlfriend anymore. But maybe that was okay. Maybe that was the way it was supposed to be, she thought, clicking her heels together, biding her time. The past week had been full of small epiphanies – Quinn knew they were probably always there, realizations that had gone unnoticed below the surface, but for her, she was suddenly aware and open to everything that had happened.

She began _seeing_ all the things she chose not to – Puck's cheating, flirting, aggression – it all become crystal clear to her and the fact that they had always been there made her weep. She loved Puck once, but somehow, over time, their relationship had grown toxic…_he_ had grown toxic. And she knew it wasn't his entire fault. No, Quinn was at fault too, because she could have easily pushed him away. _'And why didn't I? All because of popularity. All because I wanted to belong,'_ she thought bitterly to herself, sitting on the edge of her bed. Images of their relationship crashed through her mind and she began seeing all the little cracks – just like Sam had seen it. And because of that, she found it hard to believe anything Puck said anymore. Like when he cornered her on Tuesday and apologized for leaving her stranded – she had just nodded and smiled and that was that.

'_Still, he's been awfully nice this past week. Too nice,'_

And that was true, too. After Puck's apology, he barely left Quinn's side. He was attentive, sweet, walked her to class, drove her home, and even insisted on taking her out after the game that night. It was like whiplash and she didn't know how to handle it, so she had been trying her best to avoid him at all costs. Still, Quinn knew Puck well enough that something was going on – even if she didn't quite know what it was just yet. It was like Puck was getting on her good side before he did something bad, as if it would soften the pain she would later feel. But it wouldn't matter because the pain would still hurt. It would always hurt.

Her phone rang then; jarring her thoughts and she absentmindedly pressed it to her ear, not even bothering to check the caller ID.

"Hello?"

"Quinn!" a squeal came over the receiver and she immediately perked up, her expression brightening. "We're here, we're outside, so come, come, come!" he cried excitedly.

"See you in a sec!" she smiled, hanging up and tossing her phone back into her purse. Quickly checking her reflection, she fled down the stairs and out the front door, running straight into a giant bear hug from Kurt. Stepping back, she noticed the rest of her friends squeezed into a gigantic Ford Escalade and she giggled. "Wow, you guys went all out,"

"It's the first away game of the season and it's a 2 hour drive to Cleveland. We had to go all out," Blaine explained, poking his head out the window from the driver's seat. Quinn nodded, waving a quick hello to Mercedes, Sugar, and Rory, who were all crammed in the backseat. Rachel and Tina were sprawled happily across the middle aisle and as she climbed into the car, she found the excitement in the air absolutely infectious. The first away game of the football season was always a big event and Quinn knew how important it was to the team. Despite everything that was running through her head, she knew she had to show up. _'If not for Puck, then at least for Sam,'_ she thought guiltily. She owed him everything; his insistence was what made her finally see Noah for who he was. And maybe that was why she was feeling so uneasy about the night, as if she could sense something would go wrong. Otherwise, why was Puck acting like such the perfect boyfriend? There had to be something more, she knew it.

"Can we please turn on the music? It's way too quiet in here," Mercedes whined from the backseat and in less than a second, some old 90's classics filtered through the speakers. Sighing softly to herself, Quinn just rested her head on Rachel's shoulder and sang quietly in tune with the others, knowing that the sooner they got to Cleveland, the sooner she'd be able to rid the unsettling feeling in her stomach.

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><p>The football missed Finn's fingers by mere millimeters, skittering on the field, past the cheerleaders. The buzzer sounded and there it was – the first loss of the season. It had been a valiant effort and they had played well, but the Cleveland team played better. As Sam pulled off his helmet, he shrugged, exchanging high-fives and encouraging words with his other teammates. A loss was a loss and it was harsh, but they knew they had fought until the very last second. As he lined up to shake hands with the other team, he caught a glimpse of Puck, sitting on the bench, digging his toe in the grass. <em>'He must feel like crap right now,'<em> Sam thought.

It had been several seconds before halftime when it happened. Sam had been carefully studying some of their offensive plays when he heard the whistle being blown. Looking up, he had seen Puck, pounding his fist into a player's face. Sam didn't know why or how the fight had started, but what he did know was that Coach Beiste was suddenly yanking him off the sidelines and into the game. Puck was raging angry as he walked off the field, shoving his arm into Sam's shoulder, but Sam had thought nothing of it. The guy was pissed off and it was only natural.

"Hey man, good game tonight," Mike slapped a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder.

"Thanks. Sucks about Puckerman, I hope he's alright,"

"Dude, he deserved it. He's got no right punching people for no reason," Mike scoffed, twirling his helmet in his hands and stalking off to the locker room. Sam lingered, wondering what could have set off Puck so easily, but before he could come up with any theories, he heard a soft voice behind her, muttering a greeting. Turning around, he nearly lost his footing and clumsily stumbled, his mouth suddenly dry and pasty.

"Uh…hey," he said awkwardly.

"Hi, Sam," Quinn smiled up at him, her hands clasped behind her back. "I just wanted to say you played a really great game tonight. You were really amazing out there. Even Blaine was impressed," she giggled, the sound causing Sam to grin from ear to ear. Quinn was normally so weighted down with issues and insecurities that he sometimes just longed for her to smile or laugh – when she did, it never failed to take his breath away.

"Thanks," he shrugged. "I'm sorry about Puck, I don't know what got into him,"

"Don't worry about that. He's…he'll be fine," she shook her head slightly, her curls bouncing across her shoulders. "Anyway, I should let you get back to the locker room. Great game, again," she flashed him another heart-melting smile and walked away, leaving Sam dazed for several seconds before he blinked, bringing himself back to reality.

He headed back to the locker room and pulled off his jersey and pads. Leaning against the cool metal for a while, Sam closed his eyes and sighed. It had been a long day and he was glad it was nearly over. There was the ride home, but considering it was just him and his beat up truck, he didn't mind it as much. _'I'll have some time to think about this whole Quinn thing,'_ he thought. She was something else. They had avoided each other the past week and after everything, Sam felt as if he had overstepped some boundary in their friendship. But she had stayed friendly, saying hi to him in the halls, helping him study for the English quiz. But ever since their conversation in her kitchen that day, Sam couldn't help but notice small changes in her mannerisms around him. The way she lingered a second longer than he did when they were talking to each other. The way she rubbed her fingers against his hand when they discussed essays. The way she bit her lip in laughter, every time he did an impression. They were small quirks, but the point was that he had started seeing them more and more. It was almost as if…

'_Oh, get over it. You're friends. She's not interested in you that way, not with Puckerman hanging all over her,'_

And that had been the part that hurt. Watching Noah Puckerman throw an arm around her shoulders – it seemed casual and careless, but there was a possessive manner to it, like he was declaring to the rest of the world that she was his. To the rest of the world, Puck was being the perfect boyfriend, but to Sam, there was an undertone of ownership and power, as if Puck was suffocating Quinn in some way.

Sam shook his head, trying to get the entire situation out of his mind. He mentally repeated to himself that Puck and Quinn's relationship was none of his business, despite calling out Quinn on it earlier in the week. Pulling off his shirt, Sam tossed it into his gym bag and searched for a dry towel.

"Evans," a smooth voice interrupted him and Sam looked up, facing Puck.

"Hey, Puck,"

"You've got a lot of nerve, don't you?" Puck snarled, shoving Sam's gym bag off the bench.

"What?"

"Taking my spot on my team. Taking my girlfriend,"

"Hold up, you still have both of those. I only took your spot on the field because you got kicked out for fighting," Sam pointed out weakly. By now, the rest of the locker room had gone silent, their eyes waiting to see what came next. Puck inched closer and closer.

"Shut the fuck up," he spat. Puck was furious, his breaths coming out in short pants, his anger bubbling up and spilling out of him. And before Sam could say anything, before he could ask why he was being threatened, he felt Puck's fist hit him in the face, a deafening crack resounding throughout the locker room.

* * *

><p>"You played really well in the first half," Quinn commented, resting her hands on her lap.<p>

"Thanks," Puck grunted.

"I don't know why you lost your temper like that, though. Is everything okay?"

"Can you drop it?" he snapped, sharply turning the car to the left. Quinn's eyes widened, as she felt her seatbelt tighten against her shoulder. Puck was out of control. Something had happened - she wasn't sure what - that made him agitated, edgy, and completely unreasonable. She noticed it the minute he walked out of the locker room with a scowl on his face. Quinn knew he would probably be angry. After all, he had been kicked out of a football game for fighting. But she noticed that it was more than just anger…it was disappointment and hurt. Puck had practically shoved her inside his car and they had taken off from the school without so much as a goodbye to their friends. In the car, he was silent, closed off, and he was driving recklessly. It scared Quinn, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything – God only knew what he would've done if she made him even angrier.

"Sorry," she whispered quietly, turning her head to the window.

"I just got pulled off the damn field for punching someone, so excuse me if I don't feel like sharing my feelings," he muttered and Quinn turned back to face him.

"I was just _wondering_. You don't normally go off like that, you're lucky Sam was there to replace you…" she started, but pulled her lips in, realizing what she had just said.

"Replace me? Really?" Puck scoffed.

"I just meant that…it was good the team had a back up plan,"

"That Evans kid doesn't know anything. Thinks he can just walk in here and try to take over everything," he muttered.

"Sam isn't like that," Quinn replied, her tone defensive. "He's just a good a player as you are,"

"What, do you want him to replace me as your boyfriend, too?"

"You're being unreasonable," she rolled her eyes, feeling frustration build inside her. "You're the one who got into a fight, Sam was just doing what he was told,"

"Yeah? So, did someone tell him to talk to you after the game?"

"Oh, now he's not even allowed to talk to me anymore? What about Mike or Finn or Blaine or Kurt? What if I just stop talking to all boys except for you, Puck? Is that what you want?" Quinn threw her hands up in frustration.

"You could do better than Evans,"

"He's my friend!"

"He's hitting on you!"

"So what if he is? You don't care, anyway!" she shouted.

"If I didn't care, then tell me why I just beat his ass in the locker room after the game, huh?" Puck asked, satisfied. Quinn shrunk back and her eyes went cold, silence filling the car.

"You did what?"

"I…I punched him," Puck frowned, casting a look over at Quinn. She was quiet and reserved, but her voice and gaze towards him had completely changed. "Look, he was just being a jerk…"

"So you punched him? Once?"

"Yeah, sure," Puck shrugged. Quinn looked out the window at the trees that passed her, struggling to regain her breathing. The thought of anybody, let alone her own boyfriend, causing Sam physical pain made her insides churn. It wasn't fair. Sam was pure, good, and real. He had the best intentions and followed through. He didn't have to be sucked into Noah Puckerman's drama – he didn't deserve any of it, he was better than that. Quinn pictured Puck's fist pounding on Sam's face and she felt her heart twist. Sam was innocent and she had dragged him into her mess. It wasn't right and it wasn't fair.

Just then, her phone beeped, indicating she had a text message and she pulled the small device from her purse, pulling up a message from Rachel.

**_Finn just told me what Puck did to Sam and it's pretty messed up, Q. There was a lot of blood and Sam was still with the paramedics when we left…where did you go, anyway? Let me know if you got home safe. Xo._**

She read the text message once, twice, and a third time, just to be sure, until it finally seeped into her brain. _'Sam…paramedics…blood…Puck…'_ she thought breathlessly.

"What did you do?" Quinn's voice wavered in fear, as she faced the boy sitting in the driver's seat.

"What?" he asked tiredly.

"To Sam. What did you do?"

"I punched him,"

"Why was he with the paramedics?"

"Geez, I don't know, Quinn!"

"Why don't you just tell me the truth and get it over with?"

"So it was more than one punch! Big deal! He deserved it," Puck said through gritted teeth, his foot stamping on the accelerator.

"He hasn't done anything to you!" she cried hysterically. It was as if the news that Sam had gotten even more hurt had pained her in some way, as if they were tied together by some cosmic fate – that if he was hurt, so was she. "He's been nothing but polite and kind and sweet and you had to mess that all up! All because of what? He was quarterback for half the game? The game that you got kicked out of?"

"Because he's into you, damnit!"

"It shouldn't matter, because you're clearly not into me anymore, Puck," she said, trying to steady her breathing. "You and I both know it. I just don't know why you keep holding on to me," she sniffled, tears springing to her eyes.

"You wanna do this now? Fine," he rolled his eyes and pulled the car into a parking lot of a mini mart. "Get out," he gestured.

"Puck, it's…we're a million miles away from home and it's dark out!"

"If you're going to sit in my car and tell me how I was wrong to punch the kid's face in, then I don't want you here," he shrugged. "Get out,"

Quinn looked at him, searching his face for any signs of mercy or remorse, but was shocked to see that she couldn't find any. A while ago, even if Puck was being a bad boyfriend and didn't particularly understand their relationship, he was still genuine and sincere. They had risen to the top together and Puck had always harbored a soft spot for Quinn – after all, they had known each other since they were little kids. But with Puck's new football position came power. And when Quinn decided to quit the Cheerios to focus on school, he had never cared to understand it. To him, status and popularity were everything and if Quinn wasn't on board with it, she had always thought he would leave her behind. But he never did and their relationship had gotten so twisted in the short time it took for her to hang up her cheerleading uniform for good. He became withdrawn, angry, and malicious. But she had never seen him downright mean – until now. She desperately wanted the old Noah Puckerman back. Not her boyfriend, just the boy she used to know, who she knew was still alive somewhere inside him, hidden underneath an obsession with status and popularity.

Shaking her head at him, Quinn suddenly felt absolutely disgusted. This was what she was striving to be so perfect for? This was what she had been turning a blind eye to? What else had he done? Who else had he done? And how long did she sit on the sidelines just ignoring all of it because she wanted him to be better, because she wanted herself to be better? With a quick push of the door handle, Quinn grabbed her bag and jumped out of the car, turning to face Puck in the eyes.

"We're done," she spat, feeling a sense of satisfaction as she saw him look taken aback for a split second. He hadn't expected that. Somewhere along the way, he had cast her off as weak and he hadn't expected that she would fight back.

Then again, she didn't expect it, either.

Until now.


	9. Chapter 8: The Goodbye Girl

**I'm back! Thanks for all the lovely reviews, you guys, I appreciate every single one of you. :) I also have a new fic out, called _Ashes and Wine_. It's a Sam/Quinn fic and I'm not sure whether I should continue, but I like where it's going...it's a oneshot for now, though.**

**Anyway, here's the next chapter! I'm not the biggest fan of this one, I can never tell if I'm good at writing conflict and arguments, but oh well. It does move things along a bit.**

**So read, review, and enjoy! :)**

**Obviously, I don't own Glee or any of the characters. Much love, y'all!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 8: The Goodbye Girl<strong>

The walls were blindingly white and empty, only shadows dancing across the paint from the yellow lamps that lit the small room. In a corner, unread magazines were stacked neatly, collecting dust. The phone kept ringing and the sound mixed in with the faint music that came from outside. _'It's so depressing,'_ Sam thought, darting his gaze around the small room, wrinkling his nose at the disinfectant smell that wafted through it. His head hurt, his arms hurt, and his legs hurt – and he couldn't tell which of those were from football or from fighting with Puck.

"He's insane. He's literally gone crazy!" Mike, who had accompanied Sam and the paramedics to the nearest hospital, was pacing back and forth, continuously running a hand through his hair. Dr. Klein, the kind, old man who was tending to Sam's cuts, just smirked at the Asian boy, who was clearly distressed.

"Dude, chill. It's not that big a deal. I've just got a couple of scrapes and bruises," Sam shrugged, wincing as the motion caused his right shoulder to tense up. _'That one is football. Definitely football,'_ he thought.

"I don't get it. Puck is unpredictable, but I never thought he'd actually _attack_ you," Mike shook his head in disbelief. "It was like he was someone else tonight. And seeing him speed off with Quinn in the passenger seat…he's not safe for anybody to be around,"

"Well, I'm sure he got her home safely," Sam inwardly cringed. Before the fight, he had never understood the Puck and Quinn dynamic. But after being on the receiving end of Puck's kicks and punches – Sam absolutely hated their relationship.

"You are way too nice," Mike scoffed. "How you feeling?" he stopped his pacing, crossing the room to stand by Sam's side.

"Alright. I'll be out of here soon, right, Doc?" Sam asked.

"I just need to stitch up that cut on your eyebrow and you'll be good to go," Dr. Klein smiled, getting up to reach his equipment.

"See? I'm good. You really didn't need to come with the paramedics," Sam said.

"Are you kidding me? I'm your ride home. And Tina would've killed me if I didn't come,"

"Where is she, by the way?"

"Outside. She's not great with blood and stuff, but she did tell me to give you a hug…" Mike shrugged, his eyes looking around the room. With a smirk on his face, he held out his arms to Sam.

"No offense man, but I think I'll wait for her hug, instead," Sam chuckled.

* * *

><p>What kind of no-good, insensitive, idiot would leave a girl in a poorly lit parking lot of a mini mart?<p>

'_Noah Puckerman, that's who,'_ Quinn thought to herself bitterly. After Puck had left her, racing off into the dark night, she had paced the empty lot for several minutes, before deciding there was no way she was going to spend a night in Cleveland. It had taken her a while to figure out whom she could call. She needed someone who wouldn't judge her, wouldn't ask questions, wouldn't try and fix her – unfortunately, that meant striking half her friends off her list.

Rachel would immediately suggest a girl's night sleepover to dull the pain, while Finn would feebly try and defend Puck – neither of which Quinn wanted to take part in. Calling Santana and Brittany was her next option, but they were taking the school bus back to Lima. Blaine and Kurt had left early, so they were well on their way back home. Sugar, Rory, Artie, and Mercedes would try and cheer her up, but they didn't quite understand what Quinn was dealing with. And as for Sam…well, he was clearly out of the question.

So she had called Tina, the one person who Quinn knew wouldn't ask questions, wouldn't try and fix her, and wouldn't try and analyze the person Puck had become. She had spent too much time on that already, but now, sitting in Mike's Chevy, she felt herself starting to relax.

"So, where's Mike? Is he still at the school?" Quinn asked, fiddling with the radio. She settled on a soft, rock song she recognized and hummed it under her breath, tapping her fingers to the beat.

"Actually, I'm driving back to Cleveland Medical. Mike and I drove behind the paramedics to make sure Sam would be alright," Tina explained and at the sound of Sam's name, Quinn immediately stopped her humming, her eyes wide with interest.

"Um. Okay,"

"Are you alright with that? You don't have a curfew or anything, do you?" Tina's eyebrows scrunched together worriedly. "It's just that, Sam's family is out of town for the weekend and we were supposed to drive him back to Lima after the game,"

"No, it's…it's fine," Quinn murmured, twisting a lock of hair around her index finger. Was it strange that her pulse quickened at the thought of seeing Sam again? She desperately wanted to know if he was okay and even though it wasn't her place, she wanted to apologize. She felt responsible in some way, as if Puck had punched Sam on her behalf.

"Alright, let's go," Tina announced, pulling the car into an empty parking spot. Quinn jumped at the lurch of the brake and her eyes scanned the darkened hospital lot quickly, before getting out of the car and following Tina through the automated doors.

She hated hospitals. There was something so final, so cold, and so impersonal about them. She never spent much time in them, except for the occasional checkup and the time she sprained her ankle during a Cheerios routine. As she walked through the hospital's waiting room, Quinn felt her shoulders tense with fear. She saw a man being rolled on a stretcher into an operating room; his crying wife and kids following close behind. She saw a young girl, smaller than she was, walking around with an IV drip. Before Quinn could excuse herself to go to the bathroom (or to get some fresh air), Tina opened a door and ushered her inside.

"Quinn?" a confused voice brought her out of her thoughts and she blinked, letting the room come into focus before her. Sam was sitting up on a hospital bed, dressed in his regular clothes. He didn't _look_ battered or severely hurt, but when she stepped closer, she couldn't help wincing – there was an angry cut above his eyebrow and his right eye was swollen, the area around it turning a deep purple. She noticed his upper arm was starting to bruise, the dark colors peeking out from his shirt.

"Hi," she said awkwardly, waving her right hand. _'Crap, he's still cute,'_ she thought to herself, holding back a giggle. It wasn't like she was expecting him to look unrecognizable, but seeing him in the flesh was something completely different – especially now that she no longer had Puck breathing down her neck. Sam's tousled blond hair and furrowed eyebrows made the butterflies in her stomach flutter, and there really wasn't much she could do about it.

"What are you doing here? I thought you went home with Puck?" Sam asked, feebly pushing himself off the bed. Mike immediately saw what he was trying to do and crossed the room, putting a hand on his shoulder and gently shoving him back to the bed. Rolling his eyes at his friend, Sam obliged and grabbed the bottle of water off the side table, just so he'd have something to occupy himself with.

Out of all the people that had been at the game, Quinn was the last person Sam expected to see at the hospital. He had gotten several text messages from Rachel and Finn, both apologizing profusely for Puck's behavior as if it were their personal fault. Sam didn't understand it, but he had quickly learned over the past few weeks of being a part of their circle that Finn and Rachel felt responsible for _everybody_. It was kind of nice, in an odd, weird way. _'I wonder what happened with Puck…'_ he let himself think it for a split second, but Sam saw the way Quinn's eyes averted his. Something had gone wrong and he didn't know what it was.

"Puck…is on his way back to Lima. Alone, obviously," she laughed, but it was empty, hollow, and insincere. Sam frowned at her, searching her face for any sign of heartbreak, but before he could say anything else, the doctor walked in and announced that he could go back home.

* * *

><p>"He's completely out, isn't he?" Mike whispered, one hand on the steering wheel.<p>

"I think they gave him an extra dose of drugs or something," Tina giggled, turning to look into the backseat. An hour ago, Sam had complained that his neck had been hurting, so Quinn let him lay his head down in her lap. Of course, none of them had expected that Sam would fall straight to sleep. The Asian couple in the front seat of the car hadn't said anything, just exchanged a look between each other – clearly, there was something going on, even if their friends didn't quite notice it just yet.

"Should we wake him up? I mean, we're here already," Quinn spoke softly, her fingers brushing back Sam's hair from his face. She looked out the window and saw the familiar garden of the Evans' house and smiled to herself, remembering their conversation on the front porch.

"I think we have to. We don't have the keys," Mike shrugged, before turning off the car and hopping out. A few seconds later, he opened the door on Quinn's side and poked Sam's shoulder several times. "He sleeps like a fucking rock," he muttered.

"Shh," Quinn giggled. Slowly, she ran her fingers through his hair, twisting the strands to fit into the empty spaces, before tracing the outline of his cheek. "Sam," she whispered, as close as she could into his ear. "Sam, wake up," without thinking, her finger ran across his lower lip hesitantly and she looked at his sleeping face, the way his hair fell effortlessly across his forehead, the way his lip curled into a half smile.

"Mmm," he groaned faintly, opening his eyes. Quinn pulled her hand back, suddenly realizing that _her damn finger was on his lips_.

"Um…he's up," she stuttered, looking back at Mike and Tina, both of whom wore matching smirks. A pause followed, before the three noticed that Sam was struggling to sit back up.

"Alright, buddy, let's go. Hand over the keys," Mike chuckled, grabbing Sam by the shoulder and guiding him towards the house. The girls followed and Quinn thanked her lucky stars that Tina wasn't the type to go prodding into other people's business.

The house was silent and still, as Mike settled Sam onto the couch. Quinn couldn't help but take it all in – the picturesque family photos, the showcased medals and trophies, the DVD collection with everything from Disney classics to Western films to old Audrey Hepburn movies. The Evans house fascinated her, with its lived-in, homey, welcoming feel, even without the rest of Sam's family present.

"I'm going to get him a glass of water," Mike said, walking into the kitchen. Tina and Quinn nodded, resting themselves against the back of the couch. They listened to Sam's steady breathing for several minutes, before Tina spoke up.

"You should stay with him tonight,"

"What?"

"His family is out of town until Monday and…I don't know, it doesn't seem right that he's all alone," Tina shrugged.

"So you stay with him, then. Or Mike," Quinn suggested, the actual possibility of spending a night with Sam suddenly freaking her out. It wasn't that she didn't trust Sam. After all, this was the same boy who had brought her home when she had been a complete mess, so if anything, Quinn owed him. The only thing was, she didn't trust herself with him. It would be too easy to spend the night, have one thing lead to another, and then wake up regretting the whole thing. And for some reason, Quinn couldn't let herself do that to herself and especially not to Sam.

"Mike and I have to be home. Asian parental units, remember?" Tina rolled her eyes. "Look, just crash on the couch or something,"

"_Sam_ is on the couch!" Quinn half whispered, half yelled.

"Oh, what's the big deal? You'll thank us for it later," Mike piped up, coming back into the living room and setting a glass of water on the coffee table. "If you need anything, just call me. I put the doctor's number on the fridge, too," he grinned, slinging an arm over Tina's shoulders, before heading towards the front door.

"Mike! Tee! I can't…guys!" Quinn cried out. The thought of spending the night with Sam excited her, she couldn't deny it. But it was the possibility that it could end up in something more complicated – that scared her. She was only several hours out of a relationship and now she was seriously considering falling for someone new? No. Mike and Tina were certifiably crazy.

"He's just another boy, Q. Just another boy," Tina assured her, before giving her friend a quick hug and scurrying to catch up with her boyfriend, who had already started the car.

As Quinn watched her friends drive away, she couldn't help but think one thing: Tina was wrong. Sam Evans was not just another boy.

At least, not to Quinn.

* * *

><p>It was beginning to feel like a dream. Watching the Titans lose, talking to Sam after the game, fighting with Puck, getting stranded, meeting up with Sam and Mike and Tina…it was all starting to feel like a dream. And now, here she was, sitting on an armchair across from a sleeping Sam Evans, in his house, nonetheless. If someone had told Quinn that she would literally be spending the night with another boy mere hours after breaking up with Noah Puckerman, she would have rolled her eyes and chewed them out. But then again, things just seemed to happen to her lately. It was like she couldn't explain the coincidences anymore – running into Sam when she was feeling lonely or vulnerable didn't help, either.<p>

She swung her legs over the side of the armchair, stretching and flexing her calves. For the past hour, Quinn had kept herself occupied with magazines, books, and even an old photo album she had found in the dining room. Sam had woken up a total of two times – once to ask where Mike and Tina went, and the other to ask for a thicker blanket. Aside from that, he had stayed fast asleep, leaving Quinn to be absolutely consumed with her thoughts and incredibly entranced by the way his chest rose and fell with each breath he took.

Things like this didn't just happen, did they? It seemed too easy, too neat, too prettily packaged, to think that Sam Evans was the boy who changed everything. But as she crossed the room to brush back the strands that fell into his sleeping eyes, Quinn couldn't help but start to believe. In what exactly, she wasn't sure. But watching him, she knew that she wouldn't be scared to find out.

"Hey," Sam's voice was soft and gentle, the word escaping his lips in one breath. Quinn smiled and started to pull her hand back, but in one quick moment, he grabbed her wrist and held it in place. She looked surprised and a flickering hesitation crossed her face, but she didn't move, keeping her fingers tangled in his hair.

"Do you need anything?" Quinn asked.

"No, I'm fine. You don't need to stay the night, Quinn. Just take my car and drive home safe, I'm sure your mom's worried," he offered, pushing himself into an upright position.

"Don't be so stubborn," she scoffed, moving to sit next to him. "Here, drink some water,"

"You're bossy," he pouted, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Yeah, well, I feel sort of responsible," Quinn shrugged. Examining her nails and avoiding his gaze, she looked down in her lap, trying to figure out the right words to say to him. "Puck shouldn't have done that to you. You didn't deserve it," she said quietly.

"He had a lot of built up anger from the game, I think. If he hadn't punched me out, it would've been someone else,"

"Sam," Quinn looked up at him, her hazel eyes dark. Her right eyebrow lifted and he could've sworn there was a hint of a smirk on her lips. "You and I both know there's a reason why he went after you,"

"Well, it's not your fault he's an asshole," Sam muttered, taking a sip of water. He looked over at Quinn and realized she had fallen completely silent. "I'm sorry, it's just…"

"No, you're right. He's a jerk," she nodded. They stayed like that for a while; Sam sneaking glances over at her and Quinn avoiding his gaze entirely. It was a comfortable silence and she could've sworn that falling asleep right then and there would've been a good idea, until her phone started ringing, startling both of them. "Sorry! I forgot to switch it off!" she cried, leaping across the room to grab her purse. She fished out cell phone and checked the caller ID: _Puck_.

"Um, Quinn? Are you going to answer it?" Sam asked, noticing the dazed look on her face.

"What? Oh, yeah," she shook her head and pressed the phone, the ringtone stopping abruptly. Tossing it carelessly back into her bag, she went back to sitting next to Sam, sighing deeply to herself.

"Was that Puck?"

"That was…maybe," she shrugged. Sam rolled his eyes.

There was only so much he could take. He had been nothing but gentlemanly, he had suffered her boyfriend's attack on him, he had even suggested she take his car to drive back home. But he was getting downright frustrated. Quinn was acting hot and cold, sending him mixed signals, and he was getting fed up with it. Sam didn't expect much out of people. He was always the good guy, the reliable one, the responsible one. He looked out for his friends and was overprotective of girls. But there was always something certain he was cautious of – at some point, there was only so much he could give without having anything to take.

"Quinn, it either was or it wasn't," his voice was cold and hard, and she snapped her head back up to face him.

"What?"

"Geez, do you think I'm stupid or something? Do you think Puck actually knocked out a bunch of my brain cells?" Sam struggled to get up, his legs wobbly at first, before standing at full height.

"Sam, what are you talking about?" Quinn shrank back against the couch. She had always known him to be soft, sweet, and gentle. But this side of Sam she had never seen.

"Come on, Quinn," he urged. "Puck wasn't just swinging at me. He was swinging at both of us and we both know it,"

"You don't…"

"And you know what else? Something's going on with you and you won't tell me what it is and I think that's really unfair, since we're supposed to be friends!" he half shouted, his head starting to feel heavy. The medicine the doctors had given him were stronger than he thought and it was making him dizzy, not to mention more incoherent than usual.

"Since when do I have to tell you everything? You don't need to know all the parts of someone to be friends with them, Sam!" Quinn cried, standing up, her eyes flashing in anger. She had thought his initial outburst was just from being punched, but he was crossing into dangerous territory now. There was no way she was ready to talk about the possibility of "Sam and Quinn."

"No, but you're getting harder and harder to figure out, aren't you, Quinn?" he muttered under his breath, falling back into the armchair tiredly.

"I'm not yours to figure out!"

"Why are you so damn convinced that keeping everyone out of your life is better, Quinn?" he shouted, unable to control the anger he felt bubbling up inside of him. "You push everyone away, you don't let anybody get too close, and for what reason? I don't even fucking know how I got this far into your life because I've got everybody telling me that there's no way someone like you could see something in someone like me," he rambled. Quinn took a step back at his confession – had he really just offhandedly admit that he had feelings for her? And that was the thing about Sam she had come to realize. He laid everything out on the line, regardless of the consequences. It was something she could never learn to do.

She hesitated, before opening her mouth. The tension between them was palpable and Quinn couldn't stop the tears that sprang up in her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks. For once, she didn't care that she was crying in front of someone. Was this what it was like, to not be guarded and strong all the time? "Then why are you still trying? Just give up! Everybody else would have," she said, choking back a sob. Her throat felt dry and she coughed, suddenly feeling like the whole world was spinning. She sat back down on the couch, cradling her head in her hands.

How did it always come to this? Did she really push everybody away? It was true, she was never interested in introducing anybody new to her friends – except for Sam. And maybe she kept her guard up, but it was only because the alternative was worse and had the potential to be heartbreaking. _'This isn't how it's supposed to be. Just because I joined Glee, quit the Cheerios, dumped my football player boyfriend…it's not supposed to fall apart. I'm not supposed to fall apart,'_

Quinn heard Sam get up from the armchair and before she could look up, she heard him groaning to bend down in front of her, so they were at eye level. He placed a finger underneath her chin, lifting her head up to face him and his heart melted at the sight of her tear-stained cheeks, her bright, hazel eyes. She was confused, vulnerable, hurt, and a mess – but she was still the most beautiful girl he had ever seen.

"You forget, Fabray. I'm not like everybody else," he chuckled, but his green eyes were warm, open, and trusting. In one fell swoop, Sam wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a hug.


	10. Chapter 9: Truth, Bitter Truth

**Chapter 9, y'all! Woot woot. :P Okay, first off, sorry it took me a while to get this typed up. Things have just been nuts over here and my thesis for uni is kicking me in the patootie, so...it sucks. I honestly wish I could write fanfic for a living, but sadly, there are no jobs like that yet. Lol. But, you guys do make it fun to keep writing, so thanks so much for all your reviews & kind words. So appreciated. :)**

**Anyway, here is Chapter 9! I have to admit, I'm not the biggest fan of this chapter, I just don't feel like the last two parts were that great, but I do love the first part. We get to see a little bit more of what Sam's thinking and I just want to clarify: even though Puck seems like a total asshole in this fic, it doesn't reflect what I think of him. I mean, I absolutely adore Noah Puckerman and Mark Salling is the BOMB, but I just needed an antagonist for the fic, so there you go. Besides, it's totally AU, so what the hell. There's a lot of Sam/Quinn interaction and writing them always seems so easy and effortless...now I only wish Ryan Murphy would see it the same way. :P Lol.**

**That being said, obviously, I don't own Glee or any of its characters. If I did, this hiatus wouldn't have even existed in the first place. :P**

**So please read, review, and I hope you guys enjoy this! :) Xoxo.**

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9: Truth, Bitter Truth<strong>

"It happened at the beginning of junior year, at Matt Rutherford's party. Puck and I had been dating since the summer before school started, but that was the same night Coach Sylvester announced that I was getting bumped up to head cheerleader…so I guess all eyes were on me,"

"That's not unusual,"

"Sam," she rolled her eyes, nudging her shoulder against his.

"Sorry. Continue," he smirked, letting his arm fall over the back of the couch. The lights flickered softly in the background and Sam let himself glance quickly at a clock nearby – 2:25 AM.

"Anyway, I guess it felt good to have everybody pay attention to me for a change. It just didn't really sit well with Puck. He was the first-string quarterback by then and really popular, so when everybody started paying attention to little me, it took him by surprise, like he didn't know I could be that powerful or something," Quinn sighed, squeezing her eyes shut.

She had known before starting her whole story that it would be difficult – Sam would want everything laid out on the line and even though it pained her to do it, she knew it was time. She had felt his arms around her shoulders, his warmth enveloping her, and Quinn just knew that it wasn't because she wanted to date him (at least, not _yet_, anyway), it was because she actually trusted him to let him in. So underneath a thick blanket that he had draped over her bare legs, she had curled up, tucking her knees underneath her chin, and decided to tell him everything. Fortunately, Sam was listening.

"He felt threatened by his own girlfriend?"

"It sounds silly, doesn't it?" Quinn sighed, clutching the blanket closer against her body. "But Puck has always been jealous, even you know that. Anyway, that night…I was so busy mingling with other people that I didn't even notice he had gone missing. And that's when I walked in on them," she swallowed, trying to keep her tears at bay.

"Them?" Sam asked, raising his eyebrows and noticing her sudden hesitance. Gently, he rubbed his fingers against the soft skin of her arm and inwardly cheered when she didn't pull away at his touch.

"Puck and Santana," the words fell out of her mouth, her head ducking slightly to hide from Sam's gaze. "Puck slept with my best friend at the beginning of junior year," she let out a deep breath, composing herself before forcing herself to look into Sam's green eyes, prepared to see the disappointment and disgust reflected in them. Instead, she saw understanding, hurt, and anger flash in his eyes – emotions that she couldn't quite fathom.

"He slept…with your best friend?" Sam frowned. _'Fuck him. Fuck all of them,'_ he thought angrily. _'That's why she's so broken? Because that asshole slept with Santana? Fuck him,'_

"Things got weird after that, obviously," Quinn said hurriedly, trying to extinguish the fire that was burning in Sam's eyes. "Santana and I didn't speak to each for like, six months. Which was really hard to do, what with Glee club and everything. Believe it or not, it was Rachel that brought us back together again," Quinn smiled, remembering the way the petite brunette had locked both her and Santana into a supply closet, forcing them to make up.

"What about Puck?" Sam asked, his eyes darkening. She could feel his fingers curling into fists and she bit her lip, contemplating her next words carefully.

"I'm not…I'm not proud of what I did," she whispered. "No, actually, it's more like I'm not proud of what I _didn't_ do,"

"Like dump his ass?"

"Like break up with him, yes," she couldn't help but hold back a giggle.

"Quinn…"

"I know, it's stupid. It's really, really stupid. But I was naïve and silly and…I thought I was in _love_," her voice cracked and the sound made a fire course through Sam's veins. He wanted – no, needed – to protect her, to keep her safe, to never make her feel like she wasn't good enough again.

"But he cheated on you," Sam pointed out weakly.

"And he was the quarterback,"

"That's not an excuse,"

"Not to you!" Quinn cried, running her hands through her hair in exasperation. "You're new, Sam. Which means you don't see McKinley the way I do. All anybody ever cares about is football and the Cheerios. Don't you see that? When the team won the first game and we went to Matt's party, how many girls came up and talked to you? How many of them flirted with you? How many of them paid attention to you?"

Sam's eyebrows furrowed, deep in thought. "A lot, I guess. But…we just won,"

"Right, and compare that with how many people talked to you on your first day of school," she scoffed.

"Okay, point taken," he relented. "But that doesn't mean that's how you have to be,"

"You would think," Quinn muttered, shifting her weight on the couch so she faced him head-on, her legs crossed gracefully underneath her. Sam could just make out the red that circled her puffy eyes and the way her hair fell in tousled, messy waves around her shoulders. Bathed in the soft, dim light of his living room, it was as if there was nobody else in the world but each other. "I know it doesn't make any sense to you, but I was Noah Puckerman's girlfriend and he was the quarterback. We had it all, you know? Status, popularity…and when I got head cheerleader, his role became threatened,"

"Which I think is ridiculous, but…go on,"

"When I walked in on Puck and Santana, I literally thought my whole world was going to fall apart. I ran out of the party and I didn't have anywhere to go, so I ended up breaking down, sitting on that fountain…"

"Where I found you," he said, realization sinking in. "That's why you were crying that night?"

"Stupid, right? That night just brought back a lot of memories I didn't want to deal with," she shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I forgave Santana about six months after it happened. With Puck…maybe it's easier to stay mad at the people you really care about or something, because I didn't actually break up with him," Quinn sucked in her breath, wary about meeting Sam's gaze. "I should have, I know that. If it happened now, I would've definitely dumped him. But back then…so much was on the line. I wanted so badly to be the popular girl and I had it all – boyfriend, cheerleading, best friends…it was going perfectly,"

"What happened?"

"I don't think I ever said that I forgave him. Not literally, at least. But when Monday came, he was waiting for me at my locker and I just…a part of me just knew that without Noah Puckerman, I'd be nothing at McKinley," Quinn looked down in her lap, feeling shame course through her and her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Crossing her arms, she hugged herself, as if it were the only thing that would keep her together.

"What about cheerleading?" Sam asked.

"That was more about me than it was about Puck and popularity. I got tired of having to be on point all the time, so I cut it out of my schedule, let Santana take over. Surprisingly, Puck wasn't happy about it. I guess having a cheerleader girlfriend, even if she does steal your spotlight, is a lot better than having a girlfriend in the Glee club," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "I guess after I quit the Cheerios, he decided to find flexibility elsewhere,"

"Quinn, can I say something?" Sam's voice was hesitant, cautious of his next words. When she nodded, he took a deep breath and turned to face her. "You know all of this – sleeping with your best friend, treating you like dirt, cheating on you – but you still stay with him. Why?"

"Sam, I'm…"

"You're better than that. You're better than him. You deserve someone who treats you like you're the most special person in the world…someone who knows what he has when he has you in his arms and doesn't let that go, not even for a second. You know that, right?" Sam pressed, his tone urgent. For a hesitant beat, Quinn looked up at him and felt her heart melt. The way his eyes flashed with anger at Puck, but darkened with sincerity and longing. The way his blonde hair fell into his eyes, parts of it sticking up in the back. The way his biceps clenched with every fist he made, it all made Quinn's head spin.

And that was exactly when she realized that the space between them was now completely non-existent. She didn't know how or when, but underneath her blanket, his hand rested on her bare knee, his thumb drawing random patterns across her skin. Quinn felt the air turn thick and warm, settling around her as the blanket dropped, the strap of her dress falling several inches off her shoulder. She watched, mesmerized, as Sam reached over and with the gentlest of touches, grazed her arm with his fingers, adjusting the strap back into place. Throwing caution to the wind, she cupped his cheek, tracing his jawline with her thumb. She felt his strong hands grip at her waist, pulling her closer until their foreheads rested against each other. She felt his breath coasting over her own lips, their heartbeats beating in time.

"I broke up with Puck tonight," she breathed out, swallowing away any remaining guilt, hurt, or disappointment. Quinn could feel it before it happened – his hand tangling into her hair, her arm wrapping around his neck, and finally, Sam's lips against hers.

* * *

><p>"Quinn Fabray, where the hell have you been?" Santana's voice carried throughout the entire basement of the Berry household and she stood at the center of the stage, her hair tumbling down her shoulders and her hands resting on her hips.<p>

"Am I late? I'm so sorry, girls," Quinn ducked her head and dumped her handbag at the edge of the stairs. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she looked up, grinning. "So what did I miss?"

"Nearly the entire rehearsal," Mercedes muttered under her breath. Quinn frowned, noticing the identical scowls etched across each girl's face.

"If you ask me, this entire plan to rehearse the day after an away football game was stupid in the first place," Tina piped up, sprawled across a couch on the other side of the room. "I'm exhausted. Mike and I didn't get back until after midnight,"

"See? Tina gets it. Now show me what I missed," Quinn lifted her chin in defiance. If it had been up to her, she would still be wrapped up in Sam's arms – but no, Rachel Miss-Perfection Berry just _had _to call a rehearsal for next week's Glee assignment.

"You had sex!"

Quinn stopped dead in her tracks, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She turned slowly to face Santana, whose mouth was wide open with delight, her hands clasped together. "What?"

"You did! You totally had sex! It's written all over you!" she clapped happily, bouncing from side to side. Quinn's eyes widened and she held back a laugh, as Brittany circled her – apparently trying to see if the words _'I had sex'_ were explicitly written on her body.

"Santana, I did _not_ have sex," Quinn said, looking straight into the Latina's eyes. It was the truth, after all. Sam and Quinn had kissed and kissed, but nothing more than that. It had been nearly four in the morning when they stopped and decided to get some sleep, but that was all it had been. She had woken up to a text from Rachel and after several more delicious moments wrapped up in Sam's arms, he had lent her the truck and she had sped off.

Rachel sighed, obviously exhausted as well, and crossed the room to grab Quinn by the wrist. Pulling her on to the makeshift stage, Rachel pushed all her hair off her shoulders and placed her hands on her hips, ready to attack.

"We're doing _Build Me Up, Buttercup._ The girls already know the steps and I won't have you flailing about in the background – at least, not when I'm singing. So pay attention," the petite brunette started rambling about crossovers and pirouettes and Quinn tried hard to concentrate, but she could feel the looks, meticulously taking her apart one by one, as if she were a problem that needed solving. Mercedes, Sugar, and Brittany didn't particularly pay much attention – they were too involved in keeping Brittany away from the disco ball. But Tina and Santana seemed to watch her like a hawk and just when Quinn was in the middle of a twist, Tina chimed in.

"Wait a second…why are you still in the same clothes as yesterday night?"

Quinn stopped dead in her tracks. Her tone wasn't accusatory, but confused, and as Tina got up to cross the room, Quinn suddenly began feeling guilty. Sure, the Glee girls talked trash, insulted one another, and threatened to quit the club every other week. But when it came down to it, they were best friends and the only girls Quinn had let in all the way. She bit her lip, debating keeping everything away from them for as long as possible. The news about her and Puck would undoubtedly hit the gossip mill at school on Monday morning and her kiss with Sam didn't need to be addressed by anybody. But as she stared at the confused gazes that looked back at her, Quinn knew she had to tell the truth. After all, Glee club was never a good place to keep secrets.

"I broke up with Puck last night,"

"Well, it's about damn time," Santana chuckled, after a short pause. Rachel flung her arms around the blonde's neck and when she pulled away, Quinn knew there was no point in keeping the kiss a secret, either.

Ducking her head and letting her hair fall into her face, she admitted breathlessly, "I kissed Sam, too,"

A soft murmur coursed through the room and Quinn looked up to find the same expression etched across each girl's face – shock, worry, concern, and smiles.

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><p>The crowd shuffled noisily and sluggishly, as was expected on a Monday morning at McKinley High. There were the sporadic bursts of laughter and giggles, the unexpected shrieks of another slushie facial victim, and the angry words being exchanged by yet another couple breaking up. Amongst it all, Sam leaned his head onto the cool metal of his open locker door, trying desperately to catch a few seconds of uninterrupted silence. His body still ached from the fight with Puck and he had been forced to sit through a painful lecture from his parents about violence not being the answer – as if he didn't know that already – and he just really wanted to crawl back into bed.<p>

Gathering up all his strength, Sam lifted his head off his locker and started to shove his English and Astronomy books into his bag, zipping it shut ungracefully. Closing his locker door, he crossed his arms and leaned back against it; grateful for the ten extra minutes he had before the bell rang. The thought of having to sit through eight classes of mindless babbling and football practice after school agitated him, but it was the prospect of seeing Noah Puckerman that made him completely anxious. Still, Sam could handle another fight. It wasn't the physical part that made him fidgety – he knew he could throw a good punch here and there. No, it was the talking part that made him nervous.

What could he say? That he was falling for Puck's ex-girlfriend? That was already a given, seeing as how Quinn's lips, smile, laugh, and every other trait of hers managed to burn into Sam's memory day and night. He had tried to deny it, told himself that she was too buried in issues and problems, that she was too complicated. And for the most part, Sam put up a good front over struggling between whether he really liked her or just hated seeing people get hurt.

But dealing with his feelings (or non-feelings) for Quinn was nothing like dealing with Puck. Upset over the possibility of losing his spot on the football team, mad over his girlfriend dumping him…there was no doubt he'd be angry and lash out. And if that were the only thing that was going on, Sam could move past it all. _'But it isn't,'_ Sam reminded himself. No, because Puck had taken a perfect girl who had had the world at her feet and broken her down into a defensive mess – one that refused to let anybody else close to her in fear of getting hurt again. It made Sam furious and his fingers curled into fists at his side, his anger causing spots to pop up in his line of vision momentarily.

The deafening sound of the bell broke through his thoughts and Sam sighed, mustering up all his energy to walk towards Mr. Schue's classroom. His eyes darted left and right, praying silently that Puck wouldn't choose that exact moment to confront him as he weaved in and out of teenagers. His eyes landed on a familiar figure dabbing lip balm on her lips and in the reflection of her small locker mirror, he caught her eye. He stopped, completely and utterly transfixed by her stare.

They hadn't spoken since she had to leave his house the previous day and when Sam stopped by the Fabrays to get his truck back, she hadn't been around. They had exchanged several text messages, but it was too easy – seeing each other in person, Sam was doing everything he could not to run over and hold her in his arms again. He stood silently, feeling the whole world fall away around him, waiting for her to make any sort of move. And just when he thought she was going to walk away, Quinn's lips lifted in a soft curve, mouthing a silent hello, her hazel eyes fixed on him. He grinned stupidly back at her, before the final bell rang, breaking their gaze. The noisy crowd separated them and Sam felt himself get pulled into the sea of kids, but he didn't even care because one thing was certain.

He was definitely falling for Quinn Fabray.


	11. Chapter 10: With Arms Outstretched

**Ahhhh, please don't hate me! Haha. I know, this chapter is up quite later than when I usually update, but things have just been crazy - I'm in my final year of college, so my thesis is stressing me out. :S Definitely not fun. Anyway, I need to get some things cleared up, so read on...**

**First off, RJRRAA pointed out something really good in my last chapter - that Tina probably shouldn't have been the one to point out that Quinn was dressed in the same clothes as the previous night, since she was there with Sam after the hospital. So yes, that was a big whoops on my part, I can't believe I totally overlooked that! Eep. Let's just say that Tina wanted to get Quinn talking about that night. Lol. So there ya go. I just want to say, you guys are the best reviewers I've ever had for a fic on . You're all telling me that you really like the way I write Sam, which is making me super nervous, because I never noticed it before - so now I'm nitpicking, just like you guys are! Lol. Regardless, thank you so much for all your kind words. :)**

**Anyway, this is chapter 10! Big double digits. Lol. We saw Sam and Quinn kiss in the last chapter & we found out a little more about Puck. A lot of you have said that you've hated Puck's character in this story and even though I've written him as this totally mean guy, it makes me sad, because I do love Puck & Mark Salling. :P So hopefully this chapter sheds a little more positive light on our favorite Mohawked boy - the first part is one of the favorite things I've written in this fic so far. :) That being said, i'm not the biggest fan of the rest of the chapter, but I really needed it written. I'm already starting to wonder about how I'm going to end this, so that's a heads up. :) **

**Woo, biggest author's note ever. Anyway, I don't own Glee or any of its characters - obviously. :) Enjoy & please review! Xoxo.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 10: With Arms Outstretched<strong>

He felt his heart beating in time with every stride he took, felt the blood pounding in his ears, and panted through the thick, hoarse breaths that choked him. He wasn't sure why he was working himself so hard, why he strained and forced his body to go another mile, but Sam needed to run. As he realized his heart was starting to feel like it was about to explode out of his chest, he slowed to a stop, bending to rest his hands on his knees. It wasn't his normal jog around the block or his sprints across the yard – this was a full on race to something that was out of his reach.

'_Not something. It's someone,'_ the thought cut through his pain, his eyes squeezing shut to try and regain some sort of clarity on the world that was starting to blur around him. On a Monday evening, the park was fairly empty – younger families and random couples occupying benches and swing sets here and there. Darkness was threatening to fall, but as Sam leaned back against an old and sturdy tree, he couldn't even fathom the idea of walking back to his truck. He was frustrated and annoyed and although he thought a good workout could get his mind back on track, he was clearly wrong.

When Sam had woken up that morning, he had happily started his car, driven to school, and waited for Quinn. Of course, he ended up doing that the rest of the day. He waited and waited, but nothing ever happened. Aside from a shared gaze and mouthed hellos, Sam and the girl he had fallen for acted like strangers. She was avoiding him, she knew that. But he had no idea why. Puck hadn't been at school and Sam even tried talking to her during English class, but a test that had taken up the entire period prevented any conversation exchanged between them. By the end of the day, he was ready to confront Quinn, but she had run off to Glee club before he had a chance to track her down. And when he decided that he would work out all his frustrations in football practice, only to find out it had been canceled, he felt like he had gone off the deep end.

It wasn't so much that Sam was angry. He was hurt. Quinn was all he had thought about over the weekend and when she didn't answer his calls, he thought that maybe they would play it by ear at school. Instead, she had outright avoided him. Sam didn't expect that Quinn would immediately be his girlfriend – they had too many issues, _she _had too many issues, for them to even think about taking that step. But for some reason, their kisses had meant two completely different things to each other. For Sam, it seemed like a step in the right direction. He felt accepted, welcomed, and worthy of a place in her life. But for Quinn, it was another reason to back away.

'_No, that's not true. She didn't back away when you kissed her, she kissed you back,'_ he argued. Sam didn't doubt that Quinn was interested. He just knew she was scared. _'All because of Puckerman,'_ he slid down the tree and angrily punched his fist into the ground, wincing at the impact.

"Evans?" a familiar voice pulled him out of his cloudy thoughts and he looked up, coming face to face with none other than Noah Puckerman. Sam shrank back slightly, a part of him suddenly very conscious that the last time he saw the boy with the Mohawk, he had ended up in the hospital.

"What are you doing here?"

"It's a public park, you idiot," Puck scoffed, bending down to sit in front of Sam, resting his elbows on his knees. A lit cigarette dangled from his fingertips, the smoke curling its way towards Sam's nostrils. "Training for a marathon, or something?" Puck's tone of voice was conversational, as if they had been buddies for a long time.

"What?"

"I saw you running like you were trying to get away from death," he shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "Either that or you're just training to take my spot on the team," Puck smirked, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

Growing tired of the constant mind-games and useless banter – not to mention the exhausting run he had just completed – Sam raked a hand through his damp locks, leaning his head back against the tree and stared at Puck dead in the eyes. "Will you just shut up about that?" he snapped. "Last time I checked, you're still the damn quarterback, so quit whining about how I'm going to steal it from you. _When_ I actually do take your spot, then you can complain," he rarely told people off or got angry, but it had been a long day and the last thing he wanted to do was deal with Noah Puckerman, who's lips suddenly curled into an approving smile.

"There's the fight," he nodded, as if that was what he had been waiting for all along. "You look confused,"

"I'm just fucking tired," Sam growled. Puck held his gaze for a moment, his features softening, which took the blonde boy by surprise. He had known Puck to be violent and unforgiving, rude and disrespectful, but Sam had never seen him like this – appreciative and sympathetic, as if he was really trying to understand Sam's thoughts.

"Well, falling for Quinn Fabray is definitely going to do that to you," Puck said lazily, tossing his cigarette on the ground and stamping it out with his boot. Sam automatically started to tell him off for littering, but as his mind registered Quinn's name, he stopped, slack-jawed.

"What?"

"You like Quinn, right?"

"I don't know what you're talking about,"

Denial. That was definitely the only way to go about talking to the crazy, impulsive ex-boyfriend who had just beaten him up.

"Oh, god," Puck rolled his eyes, staring at Sam straight in the face. "Look, I messed up, okay? Punched you in the face because I was jealous or whatever and left Quinn on the side of some road, so I'm not surprised you two hooked up the other night,"

"What – "

Puck held up his hand to cut him off. "Santana told me. I don't like you, Evans. Hell, I don't even know why I came over here to talk to you in the first place," he paused, as if waiting for Sam to snap back at him. When all he got were a pair of raised eyebrows, Puck sighed and looked down, averting his eyes. "I got two weeks suspension for fighting on the football field and for beating your ass. And I got kicked off the team, effective immediately. So, I'm basically nothing," Puck let out a breath, ran a hand over his Mohawk, and for the briefest of moments, Sam felt himself start to care.

"Wow. Um…that's tough, man. I'm sorry,"

"Like I said, I messed up. Listen, I know you've heard a lot of shit about me – I'd be surprised if you didn't and I'm not gonna lie to you, most of what you heard is probably true," Puck dragged his eyes back up to meet Sam's. "And I know it doesn't seem like it, but I do care about Quinn."

"Dude, I really – "

"I know you're into her and for whatever reason, she's into you. So even though I don't like you…I guess there's something Quinn sees that I don't. And if she thinks you're worth fighting for, then she's definitely worth waiting for," Puck said, his eyes twinkling in the glow of the sun that was starting to set. Sam noticed several park-goers start to pack up to leave and he so badly wanted to join them, but the more Puck talked, the more he wanted to listen.

"Why are you doing this?" Sam asked, sitting forward to rest his elbows on his knees, mirroring Puck's position across from him.

"Maybe because Quinn deserves better than me. Maybe because I'm sorry or because you deserve an explanation…who knows?" he shrugged. "All I know is, I'm not a quarterback and I look like a fucking high school dropout,"

"Minor setback. Look, you want to keep your grades up? Just get a tutor and stay on track with school, even if you're suspended. As for your spot on the team…fight to get it back," Sam hesitated, before adding, "Just don't punch me again," he joked.

"I don't know what Quinn sees in you," Puck snorted, shaking his head. Standing up, he dusted off his jeans and dug into his back pocket to take out another cigarette. With swift accuracy, he lit it and took a quick puff, looking out towards the parking lots with a wistfully calm expression on his face. "But like I said, Evans. She's worth waiting for. So join Glee club if you have to, stalk her, _fight _for her. It's tiring and confusing as fuck, but she's worth it," Puck's lips curved into a small smile. Lightly kicking Sam's foot, they lifted their heads towards each other in a short and simple gesture to say goodbye, before Puck strolled away, flicking cigarette ash onto the pavements.

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><p>"Is that Sam and Puck?" Rachel asked warily, her finger pointing towards two shadowy figures off in the distance.<p>

"Oh, great, the midget's gone _loca_," Santana rolled her eyes, reclining across the backseat of Quinn's car, her legs falling onto Tina's tulle black skirt. "Why would Trouty Mouth and Puckerman be hanging out?"

"Um, because they _are_," Tina sat forward, causing Santana's legs to fall onto the floor, a shriek escaping the Latina's lips. "Oh my god, that's so weird!"

"San's right, you're all crazy," Quinn lifted a French fry to her lips, her eyes squinting to make out the figures obscured by the dark shadows. But when a sliver of light from a nearby car illuminated the park, Quinn squealed, dropping her French fry and scooting closer to the dashboard so she could have a clearer view. "Or not…what in the _world_?"

"What's going on?" Sugar's high-pitched voice came from the back seat.

"Quinn's boyfriends are having a heart-to-heart," Santana explained.

"They're not my boyfriends!"

"Wait, wait, wait! Puck's getting up…oh, thank goodness! I thought he was going to kick Sam in the shin! He's walking away…" Rachel rested her chin in the palm of her hand, biting her nails anxiously. Quinn would have laughed at the comical sight of Rachel Berry playing spy, if it hadn't been for the fact that she was in the very same position.

Sam and Puck talking to each other wasn't wrong. But considering how Puck had just recently been lunging at Sam's throat to kill him – that was the part that was so ridiculous about the whole thing. _'What are they talking about?'_ Quinn thought, watching as Sam got up and walked towards his truck to leave. _'What could they possibly have in common…wait,'_ her thoughts stopped abruptly.

It was her.

The realization swept over her, wrapped around her shoulders tightly, as she tried to process it. Her ex-boyfriend and her current whatever-it-was, talking about _her_. Anger surged through her veins – what right did they have? What was so impossibly important that they had to talk about her behind her back? And why were both of them so eager to share? Quinn had tried so hard to keep Puck and Sam separate. To her, they belonged to two different worlds, two different parts of her. But there they were, in plain sight, conversing and getting along. It was like watching who you used to be and who you wanted to be collide in a big mess.

Quinn's eyes clouded over in frustration, as she gripped the steering wheel until her knuckled turned white. They had no right to talk about her, analyze her as if she were some mental case. She was livid that Puck would try to sabotage her, after everything they had been through and she was hurt that Sam would try and seek out her ex-boyfriend to find some answers. Why didn't he just ask her? _'Because you shut him out every time,'_ a tiny voice in her head argued. She brushed it off, convincing herself that Sam and Puck went behind her back.

And that was when Quinn felt it.

The feeling of being free, loved, and protected vanished. Instead, she could hear the walls rise up around her, could imagine her heart run away into a little corner. She was stupid to ever think that believing in the good of people, that believing in Sam, would work. She had let him in and this was what she got in return – just another boy, just poking around the parts of her life that didn't concern him.

* * *

><p>"I'm not talking to you," in a clipped and angrily calm tone, her voice was still becoming one of his most favorite sounds in the world. Frowning at nothing in particular, Sam racked his brain, trying to think of what he could've done that made her pissed at him – he came up with nothing. Sighing loudly, he just pressed the phone closer to his ear. It was late at night and he had just gotten home from his workout, which included the bizarre conversation with Puck. Sam had wanted to stop by Quinn's house to talk, but something in him decided to chicken out at the last minute.<p>

"What?"

"You heard me," she balanced her phone on top of her school textbooks, switching to speaker mode, so she could twirl the ends of her hair nervously. Quinn didn't want to pick up his calls, but after the fifth time, she knew she couldn't just avoid him.

"And you're talking," he grinned. "Although I still don't know why you're mad,"

"Yeah, right,"

Sam could somehow hear the eye-roll in her voice and a flicker of anger burned inside of him. It wasn't his fault they hadn't spoken and it wasn't his fault that she was so scared and so ready to push him away. He had been understanding and caring and polite, but up until Puck's conversation, Sam had let everybody walk all over him. He was getting tired and fed up, but just as he was about to hang up the phone, one word drifted into his thoughts – _fight_.

"Alright, Quinn. Tell me what happened or what I did wrong," he sighed, running a hand over his face and leaning back against his headboard.

"Why don't you go talk to Puck, since you're obviously _best friends_ now?" she spat. Sam shot up, his senses going into overdrive.

"How'd you know about that?"

"I saw you two at the park. What were you guys talking about, Sam? Trying to get some dirt on the lost, confused little blonde girl you have a crush on? Or was Puck trying to talk you out of being with me because I was too complicated?" Quinn's voice rose and Sam immediately recoiled, even if she couldn't see him.

"God, you are unbelievable," he muttered, the frustration bubbling inside him.

"No, you are! I can't believe you'd go behind my back and that you'd talk to Puck, of all people!"

"First of all – "

"Honestly, Sam, I thought I knew you better than that,"

"Wow, okay, so you're just going to cut me off, then? Why don't you give me a chance to explain what really happened?" he scowled, resting his elbows on his

knees and letting the phone dangle from his fingertips.

"So explain,"

"Puck came up to me after my run and despite what you think, he was talking to me about what happened with his spot on the team – he's suspended for two weeks, if you care,"

"I really don't. And I really don't believe that he came up to you just to talk about that," Quinn folded her arms across her chest, irritation in her voice.

"Geez, Quinn!" he slammed his fist into his mattress and ran a hand through his hair, fingers still clutching the phone tightly. "He apologized, okay? Said he messed up. And yeah, we did talk about you a bit, but it's not what you think,"

"You know what? I was right. Letting people in, being friends with you…it's too hard. I need to stop trusting people so easily," she swallowed, pushing down the tears that were threatening to spill onto her cheeks. Quinn suddenly felt her shoulders falling and with that, her last strength to fight fell from her bones.

"He told me to fight for you," Sam said quietly, in an almost whisper. He heard her voice catch in her throat and for a split second, he held onto the hope that she would finally calm down, see things his way, and let herself open up to the possibility of love.

Because even though it was still early in the game and they had only kissed several times, Sam knew he wasn't just falling for Quinn – he was falling in love with her. And she was too, but she was too hardheaded to realize it.

"He doesn't know what he's talking about," she replied, her voice muffled, as if she had clamped her hand over her mouth. Sam groaned, wondering how it could be over before it had even started. They had only known each other a few months, but that kiss was meant to bring them closer, not further apart. He had done everything right – helped her when she needed it, waited until Puck wasn't in the picture anymore, and actually got his 'blessing,' so to speak. Puck had said that Quinn was fighting for Sam and that she was worth it. The blonde boy didn't deny that Quinn was worth it, that much he knew right off the bat.

But he definitely knew she wasn't fighting for him. And there was only so much fighting he could do for one person.

"Quinn," he pleaded, one last time, as if her name would be enough to make her reconsider.

"I'm sorry, Sam,"

It had taken him so long just to be friends with her and the kiss had just sent everything over the edge.

Sam could see the story now – boy loves girl, girl runs away at the first sign of love.

Before he realized it, the phone line went dead.


	12. Chapter 11: What I Deserve

**Whew! Finally, here's the next chapter! :P Sorry about the wait, but I just turned in my final thesis last week and then I went to the beach, so I was pretty busy. But when I came back I discovered this awesome software called OmmWriter, which basically lets you write without any interruptions or distractions and has this old school typewriter soundtrack. I'm sorta obsessed with it and wrote the majority of this chapter on it, so you guys should definitely check it out! :)**

**Again, thanks so much for all the reviews. You guys are super kind & I appreciate each and every one of you! After reading some of your reviews, I know a lot of you are frustrated with Quinn right now, especially with the stunt she pulled at the end of the previous chapter. I'm going to tell you straight up: you're not going to like her much in this chapter, either. See, it's not like I hate her character, I just find her incredibly complex and to me, she's always been the best to write about when she's at her most damaging. I've loved delving into Quinn's psyche and I just don't feel like she's the type of girl who just drops everything to be with a guy. I see her as this incredibly meticulous, cautious, private person. So, I know a lot of you are frustrated with how she's acting, but I just feel like I HAVE to write her that way, or else the entire story will just fall flat. Quinn's the main character and she needs to be flawed to make it progress.**

**That being said, I'm really hoping you guys will like Puck more, especially here. I know I love him & I'm kind of glad I've taken him away from being completely evil - it just doesn't seem right to write him like that. Lol. **

**Anyway, this author's note is ridiculously long, so without further ado...here's Chapter 11! Read, review, and enjoy! Xoxo.**

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><p><strong>Chapter 11: What I Deserve<strong>

"Quinn Fabray!" a shrill, screeching voice reverberated through the house, rattling several windows. Footsteps thundered up the stairs, each step angrier than the last. Before Quinn could even register what was happening, her bedroom door flung upon and a bright red Rachel Berry stalked into the room.

"How'd you get in?"

"Never mind that! Are you going to tell me why you've been completely M.I.A the past three days? Never mind the fact that you completely missed our Glee club assignment, you've been missing school! And you're not answering any of our calls – I even tried calling you from a payphone!" Rachel cried, unbuttoning her coat and tossing it carelessly on the floor. "A payphone! Do you know how many germs are on those things? How much bacteria? I could get an ear infection! Which could easily affect my ability to sing and lose us the competition!"

"Rachel, I – "

"I don't want to hear excuses!" the petite brunette stomped her foot and Quinn had to hold back a giggle that was threatening to escape. Rachel folded her arms across her chest and inhaled deeply, steadying her breath. "Now tell me what's going on,"

Quinn sighed, crossing her legs so she sat on top of them comfortably. Her fingers twirled the ring she wore on her right hand and biting her lip, she knew she couldn't avoid the inevitable. "Sam and I…we're not…we're done," she spat. Silence followed, as Quinn saw her friend's eyebrows crinkle in confusion.

"You're…done?" Rachel asked. Quinn nodded in response and watched, as the brunette sighed loudly in frustration. "Quinn, how can you be done if you never started?" she asked tiredly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…you're talking as if you and Sam already dated and you're already writing him off as another relationship, when it clearly isn't. Has he taken you out on a real date? Has he given you flowers? Has he driven you home and kissed you on your front porch?" Rachel demanded, going to sit on the bed. Without waiting for an answer, she continued. "No, he hasn't. He hasn't done any of those things because you haven't given him the chance to,"

"Rachel, I don't…I don't want him to. He and Puck have been talking behind my back, did you know that? When we saw them in the park the other day, they were talking about me,"

"Your point is?"

"I don't know!" Quinn let out a sound of frustration, shifting positions so she was leaning against her headboard. Picking up a throw pillow, she busied her fingers with its tassels, trying to sort out the thoughts in her head.

"Quinn, I'm going to be brutally honest right now. And I want you to know it's because I'm your friend and also, you're very lucky that Santana isn't the one here right now, because she'd surely pull out your hair," Rachel smiled softly, before facing Quinn, her expression turning serious. "You have a terrible habit of keeping everybody at a safe distance," she said, her voice dropping to an almost whisper. Quinn pulled her head up to meet her friend's gaze and even though she knew what Rachel was saying was the truth – Quinn couldn't accept that she was that much of a horrible person.

"I don't keep you guys at a distance," she mumbled.

"Now you don't, but remember when we first met? You _hated_ me," Rachel smiled, her head tilting to one side. "And it took us a long time, but look where we are now,"

"Rachel, I didn't…I didn't want to push him away," Quinn's lips quivered, but she bit down on them hard, swearing that she wasn't going to cry. Rachel shifted, so her arm came to rest around her friend's shoulders.

" Of course you didn't,"

"I was just trying so hard to keep everything separate. Sam and Puck...all of it. And when I saw them talking, I lost it. It was like he was getting this look into me, the kind of look that only Puck can have and that...that scared me. It still does," Quinn sighed.

"Why? Is it so bad if Sam knows who you really are?" Rachel asked, earning a nod in response.

"You said it yourself, Rachel. I keep everybody away from me and I don't let anyone in. Why do you think?" Quinn looked up at her friend, her bright hazel eyes glistening with tears. "I'm a terrible person. I don't stand up for anything, I don't let people see me, and I'm a bitch to everyone,"

"You're not...Quinn, you are the most popular girl in school! Do you know how many times I wished I was you last year? I mean, that's why I was so jealous of you - Finn _adored_ you,"

"Rachel, that was...such a long time ago," Quinn rolled her eyes, smiling softly.

"The point is that you can't use who you think you are as an excuse to keep people out of your life. You let Puck back into your life after he messed up and you forgave Santana. You let me in, even after I went psycho, fighting over Finn last year. You know why?" Rachel asked. Quinn shook her head. "You see the good in people. As much as you think you're a terrible person, you see and believe in the good in people. And we do the same with you," Rachel wrapped her arms around Quinn's shoulders and gave her a tight hug, before jumping off the bed.

"You're wrong, you know," Quinn muttered, playing with the ends of her hair.

"I know you think I am, but I'm not," Rachel sighed. "So do us all a favor and just come back, okay? Sam will understand and you've just got to take a leap of faith. You trust him and you see something in him, I know you do. Don't run away from that," the brunette gave Quinn one last smile, before bouncing out of the bedroom. Quinn heard the revving of a car and knew Rachel was long gone.

She didn't move for several minutes. Rachel's sudden visit and consequent analysis of Quinn's mind made her want to sit and re-evaluate everything. But through everything, she knew Rachel was right. There was a reason why her friends stuck around, a reason why Puck had gone to talk to Sam - even if Quinn thought she was a horrible person, the people in her life clearly thought the opposite. The realization had always been there, that Quinn was afraid of letting people in not because she was scared of getting hurt, but because she didn't want people to leave. _'But Sam hasn't left...he said he was fighting for you,' _Quinn thought. But what if it wasn't worth anything anymore? She remembered hanging up on him, cutting him off completely. It definitely wasn't her best moment, but at the time, Quinn swore it was what she wanted. What she needed.

Now it was just the question of whether or not she deserved him.

* * *

><p>"Tough day?" Mike asked, buttoning up his plaid shirt. Sam nodded, running a hand through his damp hair. It was a Friday afternoon and the boys had just finished a particularly taxing practice with Coach Beiste. With Puck off the team, she had made Sam the first string quarterback and he had been working his butt off to prove he was worthy of the position. Thankfully, football came naturally to him, but it didn't mean his muscles didn't ache with every move he made. "Well, at least there's that party tonight,"<p>

"What party?" Sam shoved his dirty clothes into his duffel bag and slammed his locker shut. Following Mike out of the boys' locker room, they made their way towards the school's parking lot.

"Santana's...dude, you were there when she invited us," Mike chuckled, tossing his things into the back of his car. Sam's eyebrows furrowed, suddenly remembering the Latina running up to them a few days back.

"Oh, right. Tonight," Sam muttered, leaning against the side of his friend's car. "Do I really have to - "

"You're going," Mike interrupted, his voice stern. "You've been moping around for the past week and ever since Quinn came back to school on Thursday, you've been on edge,"

"Dude, I told you..."

"Yeah, yeah. I get it. She broke your heart, after everything you put on the line for her," Mike waved his hand dismissively. "Look, man. What did Puck say? Fight for her? Yeah, do that. But you can't be waiting around 24/7. So why don't you slap on a happy face, go to this party tonight, and forget about all of it - at least for tonight. You deserve it, okay? You're starting to sound like an Adele record," he laughed, jumping into his car and revving the engine.

"Thanks," Sam rolled his eyes.

"Alright. See you tonight, man. No excuses!" Mike cried, pulling his car out of the parking lot.

Sam stood there aimlessly for a few minutes, scanning the empty lot for nothing in particular. He made his way towards his truck, dumping his stuff carelessly into the passenger seat. When he looked up, Sam noticed a figure standing on the school's front steps - a figure he desperately missed having in his arms. It was cruel, really. To remember what it was like to hold Quinn Fabray, but to have that memory last for only one night and snatched away so quickly - it was downright cruel. He watched as she pulled out her ringing cell phone and pressed it to her ear. She was too far away to hear what she was saying, but Sam could tell it was one of her friends in the way her eyes lit up and how her lips pursed together.

He missed her.

And it wasn't just her kisses and the way she fit into his arms - it was everything about her. Sam hadn't been lying to himself when he realized that he was faling hard and fast for Quinn. It seemed inevitable, because everybody seemed to fall under her spell, whether she let them or not. But no, Quinn had pushed him away, cut him off. And as Sam watched the beautiful blonde walk back and forth across the school steps and heard that familiar laugh escape her lips, he fought the urge to go and talk to her. Still, there was always that nagging thought at the back of his mind. Puck had told him to fight for Quinn. He had told Sam that Quinn was worth fighting for. But Sam had fought and fought, and he had been there to pick her up whenever she fell – but she hadn't done the same for him. He was tired of fighting, tired of being the fighter for the both of them.

He needed to be fought for.

* * *

><p>She hastily applied another coat of lipgloss, before tossing her hair forward and then back again. Making sure her curls fell around her shoulders, she took one last look at herself. Breathless, eyes wild, and a natural blush forming around her cheekbones, Quinn sighed, wondering if it would be enough. She knew she was pretty - in her freshman and sophomore year, Quinn had rested on her looks and managed to manipulate any boy (and girl) with just a simple smile. But since dating Puck and being a part of the so-called 'in-crowd,' she had stopped caring as much. Makeup was rare and things like eyeshadow, eyeliner, and highlights were left untouched. In some ways, she hated being classically beautiful. It was probably why most people thought of her as a bitch.<p>

But tonight would be different. Because in a sad twist of fate, tonight would be the night Quinn would play up everything God had given her to its full worth, because she had decided that she didn't deserve Sam Evans. Maybe it was her self-destructive mind, maybe it was because she thought she needed to be single, but Quinn, despite everything Rachel had told her, knew it was the right thing to do. Dragging Sam into her mess was never part of the plan and it wouldn't be for much longer.

"Quinn!" Santana's voice pulled her out of her thoughts and she hurriedly snapped the makeup cases shut, before getting to her feet. Smoothing out her dress, Quinn made her way downstairs into the Lopez's kitchen, navigating through the steady throng of party-goers that were already filling up the house.

"You called?"

"Are you going to spend the entire damn party in my room? Major party foul, Fabray. Grab a drink and go mingle," Santana half-shouted, shoving a red plastic cup into Quinn's hands and pushing her out of the kitchen. She stumbled across several people she knew from school, but none who actually interested her. Leaning against the living room wall, she fiddled with the cup in her hand and twirled a strand of hair around her finger. She wasn't one to miss out on partying, but she wasn't exactly the biggest fan of it, either. Quinn sighed, watching a brunette Cheerio drag one of McKinley's basketball players into an empty room.

"Quinn, can I talk to you?" she felt his hand on her elbow and flinched, before turning to face him. It had been so long since Quinn actually looked at Noah Puckerman, and really looked, not glanced. His deep brown eyes were like melted chocolate and his Mohawk was neatly kept, as if the two struck the best possible contrast between danger and innocence. Quinn knew him, really knew him, and through everything, she knew he had never meant to hurt her. She knew popularity could make a person do ugly things - things you could never take back.

"Sure," she sighed, following him into a nearby room. He closed the door behind her and she was grateful that he hadn't locked it. "What's up?"

"Sam Evans," Puck said bluntly. Quinn's eyes widened, at Puck's easy use of Sam's name. It sounded foreign to her, for some reason.

"What about him?"

"Quinn, cut the crap. You're into him, he's into you, just be together already, for god's sakes," Puck flopped down on the couch, running a hand over his Mohawk tiredly. When Quinn didn't respond, he looked up at her, a softer expression etched across his face. "I'm not the biggest fan of the guy, I think we all know that. But something about him does something to you...opens you up, I guess. He makes you more...available to the world. Better than you already are, somehow," he scrunched his nose in thought. "But you won't fucking let him!"

"Puck, what in the world are you babbling on about?" Quinn couldn't help but chuckle - her ex-boyfriend looked positively befuddled.

"This doesn't make any sense, I know. I shouldn't be telling you to go after another guy, especially when I treated you like crap. But you both kind of need each other. And I know I told him to fight for you, but - "

"Wait, you actually said that?" Quinn interrupted him.

"Well, yeah,"

"So he wasn't lying..."

"I don't think Sam knows what lying is," Puck pointed out. "The thing is, I told him to fight for you, but maybe what I should have said is that he should try and convince you to fight for him,"

"Puck, you're losing me here. That doesn't happen very often," she laughed, taking a seat next to him.

"Look, I know you want to be all high and mighty and you don't let anyone touch you or affect you in any way. You keep the world away from you because you think they're better off without you. I don't know where you got that idea from - it's fucked up, to be honest - but I guess that's just the way you see things," Puck explained. "But you can't keep people out forever. Sooner or later, you're gonna have to let someone in, because let's face it, the Glee club? We're not going to be around forever," he shrugged, getting back to his feet. Taking out a cigarette, he lit it swiftly, taking extra care to exhale the smoke away from Quinn.

It was odd to her how they could be friends after the breakup. Confidants, in some twisted way. She had never hated Puck, she had just been extremely disappointed in the person he had become. And it was sad that it took a suspension and getting kicked off the team for Puck to change his ways, but Quinn knew he was destined for something bigger and better.

"I'm scared," she blurted out, folding her arms across her chest. Puck stopped, one hand hovering above the doorknob, and turned to face her. He shook his head sadly, a soft smile playing at his lips.

"You've got to fight, Quinn,"

* * *

><p>Sam brought the plastic cup to his lips, feeling the strong liquid burn his throat as he tipped the contents back. He had watched Quinn and Puck go into a room together and although he was certain nothing was going to happen, the sight of them together made him nauseous. Sam wasn't a heavy drinker by any means, but desperate times called for desperate measures - this time, it was to numb the pain. So he had drank and drank and for the most part, he didn't really know how much he had, but the dizziness and swaying backyard definitely meant he was well past tipsy.<p>

"Hey, man," Mike slapped his shoulder playfully and Sam nodded his head in greeting. "Glad you decided to come,"

"Yeah, well, I didn't have much else planned," Sam slurred.

"And exactly how much have you drank tonight?"

"Dunno," he shrugged his shoulders, tossing his cup into a nearby trashcan, making him stumble backwards slightly.

"Uh-uh, buddy. You're past the limit tonight," Mike drained his drink into the trash and looped Sam's arm around his own shoulders, guiding them both inside. "I'm gonna put you in a room and then I'll come find you before I go home, alright?" the Asian boy maneuvered both of them into a nearby bedroom and plopped Sam on the bed. The blonde instantly curled up into fetal position, his lower lip sticking out sadly.

"Thanks, Mikey,"

"Don't mention it," he chuckled. "Look, I'm putting a trashcan right here, just in case. Wait it out, man," Mike punched his friend on the shoulder playfully, before leaving the room.

Sam tossed onto his back, squinting his eyes so the ceiling would just stop goddamn moving. This wasn't like him. He never drank because he was sad and for good reason - it turned you into a pathetic, weepy, crying mess and nobody wanted to deal with that. Locked up in a bedroom, Sam was thankful that Mike had the good sense to stash him in here, who knows what embarassing situation he could've gotten himself in out there. He felt his eyes start to close, his heavy lids telling him it was time to sleep it off, but Sam's mind was incapable of turning off completely. His thoughts swirled in his head, images of Quinn and kisses, and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the memories to vanish.

It was several minutes later when he heard the door open and close. He heard somone cross the room and sit at the foot of the bed, the weight causing him to bounce slightly. It took Sam a while to figure out who it was, but when the perfume reached his nose, he knew.

"Quinn," his voice was raspy, his throat dry.

"Sam, I'm...I'm so sorry," she murmured, placing her hand on his jean-clad leg. He gasped softly at the touch and struggled to get up, before he felt her hand rest on his shoulder, gently pushing him back down to lying position. "I don't know how much of this you'll remember tomorrow, but I need to say it," Sam nodded, the dryness in his throat not allowing him to respond. His tongue felt like sandpaper, but he hoped his eyes would do most of the talking - they were busy capturing every single part of Quinn and committing it to memory. He wanted to remember the way the moonlight cast a soft shadow of her delicate features, the way it reflected off the blonde strands that tumbled down her shoulders.

"I'm so sorry. I...I push people away, that's just what I do. And when you came to McKinley, it was the first time I started to trust or believe in someone other than my friends. But I was so afraid," Quinn took a deep breath, before exhaling slowly. "I was scared that once you saw me, you'd leave. Because that's what people do - they leave when the people they meet don't meet their expectations. And you put me up so high, I was scared I'd let you down," she bit her lip, trying to control the tears that were streaming down her cheeks.

"Quinn, I don't..."

"No, Sam, don't. I just...this was my fault. I don't deserve you. I meant it, you know? When I said that you were one of the good ones? It's because you belong to you and nobody else. You stick to what you believe in and you don't let anybody tell you different. I'm not like that. I'm not like you," Quinn sighed. "I'm sorry, but you...you deserve better, Sam. Puck told me to fight for you, but I don't think I deserve to," she gasped, the words choking her. Quinn never thought laying it all on the line would hurt that much, but she could feel the strain of her words on her heart, the way it twisted and grasped at the strings.

The room fell silent as they sat in the moonlight. Her hand rested on his leg and his hand had found her waist. She didn't look at him, though. Instead, Quinn cast her gaze elsewhere, but she could feel his eyes on hers. Sighing once more to herself, she got to her feet and leaned over him, brushing back his hair. Pressing her lips softly to his forehead, she mumbled her apologies and started towards the door.

"Quinn," his voice was soft and she almost didn't hear it, but she turned around to see him steadying himself on his elbows. "I could've loved you, you know. I think I'd have been good to you,"

She stopped, her heart racing and pounding in her ears. Part of her wanted to jump right into his arms and lay there forever, but another part - the smarter part - knew that as much as she could do it, she shouldn't. Because Sam didn't deserve someone who made him frustrated and angry. Sam didn't deserve a girl who didn't know who she was.

No, Sam Evans deserved a girl who was worthy of being loved by him. And Quinn wasn't that girl. As much as it pained her, she couldn't be that girl. Turning the doorknob, she whispered back softly,

"I know you would have."


	13. Chapter 12: I and Love and You

**Chapter 12: I and Love and You**

The light filtered through the half-open curtains, forcing Sam to open his eyes. There was an unmistakable pounding in his head, one that he could feel right behind his eyeballs and already, it was the worst pain in the world. Propping himself up on his elbows, he took in his surroundings - Footloose movie posters, a bench press in the corner, and some sort of Asian lettering on the wall across from him told him that he was in Mike's bedroom.

"Morning, dude," a voice cut through the silence and the door slammed shut, causing Sam to wince in pain at the sound. "Rough night?" Mike chuckled, setting two mugs of coffee on his desk and taking out his earphones.

"You have no idea," Sam groaned, swinging his legs out of bed as slowly as he could. "Where've you been?" he asked, reaching for the coffee and sipping it slowly, feeling the caffeine course through his system.

"Went out for a run. Not all of us are such big party animals like yourself," Mike joked, running a hand through his damp hair and settling in his desk chair, leaning back. There was a certain look across his face that Sam couldn't quite figure out, but with how he was feeling, he couldn't quite get there on his own.

"I don't know what the fuck I was thinking..." Sam muttered. "I didn't like, kick you out of your bed or anything, did I? I mean..."

"I was totally gonna dump you on the floor, but I think you get stronger when you're wasted. I slept in my sleeping bag,"

"Man, I'm so sorry. I was..."

"Really messed up last night, I know," Mike chuckled. "You kept muttering about Quinn...any idea what that was about?"

"I have a few, yeah," Sam inhaled, the memories from last night getting clearer and clearer as time passed. "I don't think it's going to work out," the room fell silent and Mike chewed on his lip, deep in thought. Sam could tell he was itching to say more, but was grateful his friend wasn't going to offer up any advice.

"That sucks, man. I know you liked her a lot,"

"Yeah, no kidding," Sam scoffed. "I can't believe I suffered Puck kicking my ass just to get shot down by her. It sucks," he shook his head in defeat.

"Alright," Mike set his mug on the table and gestured for Sam to stand up. "You're moping again and the only reason why this would be acceptable is if you were dying or severely hungover,"

"I am severely hungover, dickhead," Sam shot back. "You're starting to sound like Rachel,"

"And you're starting to sound like a pain in the ass," Mike raised his eyebrows in defiance. "Quit whining and tell me the whole story,"

"She said something about how I deserved better. Which is ridiculous, I mean, how does she even know? She's so fucking frustrating! And it's like, why does she get to make all the decisions on her own? Like I don't have a say in anything?" Sam exhaled loudly, standing to his feet. He wobbled, trying to regain his balance, before pacing back and forth in front of Mike, his hands wringing together anxiously. "She said something about how once I see the real her, I'll be disappointed or let down or it won't meet my expectations. But she doesn't know all of that. She can't know, because she never takes a goddamn chance on anything in her life!"

"Whoa,"

"And she's just so stubborn, she won't listen to anybody but herself! It's like she wants to be so independent all the fucking time and she's just pushing everyone away and I know she gets that, but she doesn't do a damn thing to change it!" Sam cried, squeezing his temples together with his fingers in an attempt to ease the oncoming headache. Taking a quick peek at Mike, who was trying not to laugh, Sam sighed. "That's it. I'm done with her. Done with Quinn Fabray and all her fucking mind games," he said dejectedly, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration, before plopping back down on the bed. Several seconds of silence passed, before Sam heard the scuffle of a chair moving closer towards him. Mike slapped a comforting hand on his shoulder and he looked up.

"You're in love with her," he said. Sam's eyebrows shot up in skepticism and he slowly peeled away from Mike's hand.

"What?"

"You heard me, Evans. You're in love with her. And it probably doesn't seem like it, but she's in love with you too," Mike shrugged, his tone of voice conversational and far too casual.

"How do you...how would you even know?"

"Look, once Quinn opens up and lets you in...you go through the rest of your life wondering how you could've lived without her before. You just haven't known Quinn as long as we have,"

"We?"

"Me, Tina, Santana, Mercedes, Rachel, Puck..."

"Hold on, you guys talk about this?" Sam's voice came out in a squeak.

"Yeah," Mike chuckled. "I spent an hour last night talking to the girls about you and Quinn instead of making out with Tina, so...look, the point is, Quinn doesn't realize that she needs you yet. She just thinks she doesn't deserve you, that you're too good for her,"

"But I'm not!" Sam protested.

"Trust me, I know," Mike smirked. "Look, the only thing you can do is try and convince her that you're worth taking a chance on and vice versa. And seeing as how you're in love with her, telling her that is your best bet," he shrugged.

"Since when did everybody get so all-knowing? You and Puck talk as if you have some sort of intel on what Quinn and I feel for each other, but you guys could be wrong. You guys probably are wrong," Sam snapped.

"Dude, stop being an ass," Mike rolled his eyes, getting up to pull his jeans out from his closet. "Puck and I have known Quinn a lot longer than you have. As for you...you're easy to read. Kinda like a puppy," he laughed.

"Hilarious," Sam replied bitterly.

"Look, it's okay if you love her. Nobody says there's a time limit to love. And maybe if you just realize that you're falling in love with her, it'll make things easier," Mike shrugged, giving his friend a comforting pat on the back before retreating into the bathroom. Several seconds later, Sam heard the shower start up and he sat on the edge of the bed, cradling his head in his hands, trying hard to figure out his feelings for Quinn.

Falling in love with someone was a big deal. Falling in love with Quinn Fabray...that was something Sam never considered. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. The way he had always shown up at the right times, how he was always there to help her pick up the pieces. She had made things easier for him, too. Transitioning into a new school was difficult and he remembered how he felt that first day - alone, worried, and irritated. Quinn had introduced him to her friends and it had all gone smoothly. Sam had never really thought it about it like that, how they were there for each other, unconditionally, no questions asked. The more he thought about it, the more it became clearer.

Either that, or Sam was definitely going insane.

_'This would be so much easier if she wasn't so damn confusing! First she's into me, then she's not, then she is, then she gets mad at me for talking to Puck, then she's telling me she doesn't deserve me...I mean, what the fuck?'_ Sam ranted inside his head. He knew that if it were any other girl who had strung him along, he would've been done with it a long time ago. Most people thought he was such a nice guy, but there was only so much he could take. But for some reason, he had stuck it out for longer with Quinn. Maybe it was fate, maybe it was because all the stars aligned...or maybe Mike was right.

Maybe Sam was in love with Quinn.

* * *

><p>The rain dotted the window in haphazard formations, some drops merging with others, while a flash of lightning sliced through the dark night every few minutes. Quinn wrapped her sweater tighter around her middle and pulled her knees up to her chest, her head resting against the wall behind her. There were times when Quinn's mother would leave for a church retreat or for a quick trip with her divorced friends, when Quinn would have the whole house to herself. When she dated Puck, it usually meant makeout sessions and movies. When they were fighting, Quinn would call Tina, Rachel, and the rest of the Glee girls for a sleepover. But tonight, the night after a party that had once again pulled everything apart, Quinn sat alone in her house, soaking up the quiet, wallowing.<p>

She was self-destructive. That was the only reason she could find for pushing away an amazing guy like Sam Evans. He had accepted her, was patient with her, and never once tried to go too far. He had put up with all her faults - and God knows she had so many - and never got frustrated. He was worth it and she had let it all go. 'It sucks trying to be the good person,' she thought bitterly to herself. Sophomore year Quinn would've made out with Sam the minute she had laid eyes on him. But now, she was cautious and scared and it had gotten her here - alone on a Saturday night, feeling sorry for herself.

She was pathetic.

The faint ringing of her cell phone brought Quinn out of her misery, just before the tears came. Rolling her eyes at the intrusion, she reached over and brought the phone up to her ear.

"Hello?"

"Don't hang up, it's me," Rachel's voice came through the receiver, rushed and panicked. "Are you doing okay over there? I know your mom left town this morning. Want me to come over?"

"Rachel, don't be ridiculous. It's pouring outside and I'll be fine, really," Quinn bit her lip, cradling the phone closer to her ear. In the background, she heard someone drop something followed by a curse word. "Are you with Finn right now?"

"Oh, yes, he's over at my house. My dads are stuck in Cleveland tonight,"

"You sound so sad," Quinn chuckled.

"I'll cope," she replied. "Are you sure you'll be alright? After Santana's last night, you kind of just...you were out of it,"

"I'll be fine, Rach, I promise. Thanks for checking up on me, though," Quinn leaned her head back against the wall, desperate for the phone call to be over. It wasn't that she didn't like having her friends check up on her - it was just that with each passing remark, they unknowingly kept reminding her of what she didn't have and was to afraid to get. "I'll let you know if I need your help,"

"Quinn, one more thing," Rachel said quickly.

"Yeah?"

"I think...don't get angry at me for merely expressing my opinion, but I think...you're in love with Sam," Rachel added the last few words breathlessly and Quinn's mouth fell in shock.

"You think I'm...in love?" she squeaked, after several seconds of silence between the two girls.

"Yes. I just don't think you know it yet. Maybe it hasn't hit you and okay, maybe it's not full-fledged love, but it's something, isn't it?"

"Why are you even telling me this, Rachel?"

"Because maybe..." she stalled and Quinn could practically hear the wheels turning in her friend's mind, trying to find the right words to say. "Maybe it'll make things clearer. Or easier,"

"Thanks," Quinn sighed. "Look, I've gotta go. Say hi to Finn and I'll talk to you later," without waiting for a response, she hung up and flung her phone at her bed, watching it bounce several times before landing on the carpeted floor with a dull thunk.

Rachel was crazy. There was no way Quinn was actually in love with Sam Evans. He deserved better, which was exactly what she had told him at Santana's party. Besides, Puck and Rachel had said so themselves - Quinn pushed everybody away._ 'What's one more person?'_ she thought bitterly to herself, standing up from her window seat and making her way downstairs to the kitchen. She quickly made a mug of hot cocoa for herself and wandered aimlessly around the large house, her fingers running over little keepsakes from the years when her family used to be whole. Raising the mug to her lips, Quinn let her thoughts wander.

Sam Evans. He was the wild card, the one she never expected to come into her life and shake everything up. Before him, she was content with who she was and where she was. But when he showed up, Quinn felt everything change. She was more confident, more daring, more vulnerable, more accessible. Sam made her a better friend, a better daughter, a better person. And somewhere along the way, Quinn had fallen. Her days were darker without him around and he made her feel free, but protected at the same time.

Simply put, she was screwed.

"Stupid Quinn," she muttered softly to herself, clutching her mug of cocoa closer to her body. Just as she was about to head back upstairs and into the comforting warmth of her bed, Quinn heard a soft knock on the front door. Swiveling around quickly and trying to regain her ragged breathing, she slowly and shakily made her way towards it.

It was raining outside, in the midst of a storm, and the list of people who would unexpectedly show up on her doorstep was limited. Tina and Mike were at a family dinner, Kurt and Blaine were visiting schools in New York with Mercedes and Artie. Everybody else hadn't bothered to call her over the weekend and Rachel was with Finn. Her hand hovered over the doorknob tentatively, before a surge of bravery forced her to yank it open.

"Sam?"

"I need to talk to you," he said, his voice confident, although shaking with the cold. His usually dirty blonde hair stuck to his forehead in nearly brown strands and his plaid shirt clung to his torso, his sweater falling off one shoulder.

"Um, okay," she mumbled, still unable to comprehend that Sam Evans was standing in her doorway.

"Geez, Quinn, are you going to let me in or am I gonna have to freeze out here?" he prompted. Quinn's eyebrows furrowed at the snappy impatience in his tone of voice and she stepped back so he could cross the threshold. "Is your mom home?"

"No, she's at a church retreat," she explained, setting her mug on a nearby table. "Do you want some cocoa? It's freezing out there,"

"I'm fine," he waved her off. "Look, we need to talk,"

"So you said," Quinn swallowed nervously, crossing her arms.

"You're not being fair to me. You can't just dump all this 'you-deserve-better' crap on a guy who was obviously wasted and then sneak off in the middle of the night. You can't just decide all by yourself that you're going to give up on us...on what we could have if you'd just let yourself feel something for once," Sam said firmly, his green eyes never wavering from Quinn. She ducked her head, to avoid his gaze, but felt his fingers pull her chin back to face him. "You're not being fair,"

"Sam, I'm..."

"You're sorry, I know," he rolled his eyes. "I don't get why you're apologizing, though. So I'm just going to do this one thing and you can let me know if you want to be with me or not - one chance, Quinn, or else I'm gone," he murmured, bringing his forehead to rest against hers. Before she could open her mouth to reply, his lips parted hers and met in an electric kiss - one she could feel spread warmth all over her body. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his neck, desperate to pull him closer, and she stood up on her tiptoes, leaning her entire body into his. Quinn felt him moan against her mouth and after several more breathless seconds, he pushed her away gently.

"What..."

"I think I love you, Quinn. I know it's scary and a little weird, since we've only known each other for a couple of months, but there it is. Now you can think about that kiss and think about the fact that I'm falling in love with you...and decide whether or not you want to be with me," Sam said, his voice firm and unyielding. He ran a hand through his hair and Quinn was momentarily distracted by the way his biceps rippled as he flexed them. "I meant what I said last night - I could've loved you. And I woke up this morning and it's still true - I could love you. But only if you'd let me,"

Quinn's eyes widened at Sam's little speech. Love. The very same word she had just been contemplating only a few minutes ago. She stood, frozen, as he leaned over to give her a soft kiss on the cheek. When he pulled back, she noticed the look in his eyes - hope, disappointment, and the last flickers of anger. As she watched her front door close behind him and felt the silence fall around her, a light switched on in her head and heart. Just like Rachel had said, it had made everything clearer than it had ever been. Before Quinn could even contemplate what she was doing, her hands reached out for the doorknob and she yanked the door open, racing down her front porch.

"Sam!" she cried, her soft voice getting drowned out by the storm. Raindrops pelted her and within seconds, she was soaked from head to toe. "Sam!" she shouted, louder this time. Finally catching up to him, Quinn grabbed onto his sweater and he turned around, water flinging every which way. She saw the hurt blazing in his bright green eyes and she felt her heart twist at the sight of his pain.

"Damnit, Quinn! You can't keep doing this! You're fighting against everything!" he yelled, pushing the hair off his forehead.

"Sam, I'm..."

"You're stubborn and selfish and insecure, but I'm standing here, telling you that I don't give a damn about all that!" he took Quinn by the shoulders, the look in his eyes intense and unwavering. "And you won't even give me a chance!" throwing his hands up in frustration, Sam turned, heading towards his truck. A hesitant beat followed and as she looked at his retreating figure, Quinn did the only thing she could think of.

"I love you!"

The words escaped her lips without a moment's notice and in that moment, it was the only thing that felt right. Sam stopped, dead in his tracks, and turned slowly, his mouth wide open in shock. With each passing moment, it rained harder and harder, and they were both most likely going to freeze to death, but Quinn took the opportunity to close the gap between the two, the corners of her mouth curling into a smile. She took one step, and then another, and several more, until she was pressed up against his chest, feeling his heartbeat quicken with each breath.

"What?" he whispered, the confused and shocked expression still cleary etched across his face. Quinn giggled, bringing her hand up to cup his cheek and pulling him down so their foreheads rested against each other.

"You heard me," she murmured. Gently, but surely, Quinn lifted herself up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against his, tangling her fingers in his short blonde hair. She saw a flash of lightning out of the corner of her eye and was just about to pull away so they could head inside, before she felt Sam's arms wrap around her waist, pulling her in even closer.

* * *

><p>Quinn Fabray used to hate Mondays. She hated the routine of having to get up and face everybody all over again, hated the fact that most of it was just an act and a burden to strut down the hallway while students parted the way for her. But on this particular Monday, Quinn let all that fall away.<p>

"Ready?" Sam asked, stepping around the front of his truck to help her down.

"As I'll ever be," she chirped, grasping onto his hand and hopping out of her seat. Closing the car door behind her, she leaned against it, taking a deep breath. "You know everybody's going to ask, right? Mike and Tina are going to give us that all-knowing, powerful Asian look. Kurt and Blaine will start firing questions. And Rachel...well, she's just going to twist my arm until I tell her every little detail,"

"Well, then, you're just going to have to tell her every detail," Sam chuckled, lifting their intertwined fingers to his lips for a quick kiss. "Let's go," he gestured towards the doors of McKinley. She nodded, hoisting her messenger bag higher up on her shoulder and letting Sam lead the way into the school. It was funny, how just a few months ago, Quinn dreaded the walk down the hallway. All eyes would be on her and people would whisper behind her back. She had spent months convincing herself it was because they were jealous, but in reality, they were all talking about how Puck was cheating on her behind her back.

As she walked down the hallway on this particular Monday, her fingers laced with Sam's, her heart felt lighter. The whispers didn't bother her, the stares didn't phase her, and she nearly skipped towards her locker - where a small group of her friends had all gathered. She heard Sam mutter something under his breath and inhale, before Rachel pounced on both of them, her small hands gripping their shoulders painfully.

"Did it finally happen?" the tiny brunette demanded.

Quinn felt Sam's shoulders shake, trying to hold back his laughter and she kept her gaze from Rachel, turning to face Sam's chest instead. She heard the petite girl demand an answer and feeling Sam's lips gaze her hair, Quinn turned back around and gave her friend a short nod. Rachel screeched and flounced back to their friends and Quinn felt Sam pull away from her, just to sling an arm around her shoulders. She huddled in closer and they walked towards her locker, Sam immediately answering questions from Kurt, Blaine, Rachel, and Finn. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Tina and Mike give them knowing looks and she giggled, looking up at her boyfriend. There would be plenty of time for explanations, apologies, and promises - plenty of time that she'd be able to spend convincing both Sam and herself that they both deserved each other.

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><p><strong>Well, that's it! I told you guys a few chapters back that I was thinking of ways on how to end this and there it is. Lol. This is the first time I've ever written a confrontation like this between two main characters and I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, but there's always room for improvement. :P<strong>

**I hope you guys have enjoyed this fic and thank you so much to each and every one of you that have put this on alert, put this on favorites, or dropped a review for any chapter. I've had so much fun reading all the feedback and I'll always love writing Quinn and Sam. Thanks again! :)**

**Now that Good to You is wrapped up, I'll probably just be doing oneshots of Sam and Quinn, unless inspiration strikes again. :P I'm currently working on a oneshot for the Ashes & Wine collection, so stay tuned! :P **

**Don't forget to review! Much love, y'all. :)**

**Xoxo.**


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